


Personal Time III thru IV

by Xanthe



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-01-15
Updated: 2002-01-15
Packaged: 2018-11-20 05:15:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 45,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11329317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xanthe/pseuds/Xanthe
Summary: In the aftermath of "Existence", Doggett discovers the secret that Skinner has been hiding for so long. Masses of Skinnerangst.





	Personal Time III thru IV

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Personal Time by Xanthe

Title: Personal Time. Part Three  
Author: Xanthe  
Email:   
Website: http://www.xanthe.org Story posted on my site if you'd prefer to read it there. http://www.xanthe.org/slash/SkOther/pt3.htm  
Posted: 7th January, 2002  
Pairing: Skinner/Doggett  
Rating: NC17 for graphic M/M sex.  
Category: S, R, A  
Status: Third part of a four-part, novel-length story. Okay, I know I said last time that this would be a three parter but it got too long <g> so it's a four parter instead! The fourth part *is* written though and is at beta so it'll be posted soon!  
Archive: Anywhere.  
Feedback: Yes please!  
Spoilers: Season 8  
Summary: Doggett is forced to get tough with his lover and as both men face up to a disturbing development in Skinner's life, Doggett's own life is threatened. Lots of Skinnerangst and some Doggett-damage <g>  
Warnings: Graphic Dom/sub sex in this instalment. Scenes of bondage and erotic spanking. All entirely consensual!  
Authors Notes: I found the characterisation of Skinner strange in Season 8. He's unsure of himself and not as forceful as he seemed in earlier seasons. I wanted to explore the motivation for this apparently uncharacteristic behaviour and decided that he's a man in crisis. I also wanted to explore John Doggett's personality - I've never written him in this kind of detail before and it's been fun. He has a refreshing bluntness which I really like writing.  
Grammar note: I used UK spelling in this one!  
Dedication: This fic is dedicated to all the girls in the Walterzone for being such great friends, and encouraging, supportive and feedbacking readers. Special thanks to Phoebe for the intelligent beta and for knowing all those obscure little details! To dot for getting me inspired again after a long dry spell, to Sergeeva whose wonderful "Mistress Xanthe and the Good Boys Club" made me resurrect this story, and to Kristen for being so encouraging and supportive.

* * *

Personal Time  
Part Three  
By Xanthe

Doggett wasn't sure what Skinner's reaction would be to their conversation about Mulder and Scully - and particularly the implications of his comments about Mulder. At first he thought there would be some immediate repercussions, or at least further conversations on the subject, and, while a part of him dreaded them in case Skinner decided to end their relationship as a result of analysing his feelings for Mulder, another part of him knew he'd prefer to get the issue out in the open and deal with it, even if he ended up getting hurt as a result. However, as the weeks went by and neither of them spoke about it, it became clear that Skinner was falling back on another of his tried and trusted methods for avoiding personal issues he was uncomfortable with - he buried himself in his work.

Their relationship continued - but the opportunities for them to spend time alone became increasingly few and far between. At first Doggett didn't realise what was going on, but as the weeks went by and he watched Skinner work long into the night most evenings, and saw how grey faced and haggard his lover was becoming, Doggett decided that he had to step in. He knew Skinner had several mechanisms for dealing with his emotions. One was to drink, but he only did that under extreme stress - Doggett didn't think Skinner was anywhere near being a bottle a night alcoholic but drink was obviously an occasional crutch for him. The other was to punish himself, embarking on physical exercise routines that were nothing short of self-torture - just as he had in the hospital. The third way was denial, and in order to keep up this level of denial he had to have a distraction - which was where work came into the equation. Doggett was something of a workaholic himself - it was only when Luke had been born that he'd woken up, taken a good look at himself, and found that there was more to John Doggett than being a cop. He was a rounded person, with many interests outside of Law Enforcement, and he owed it both to himself, his son, and his career to lead as varied a life as possible. Watching Skinner work himself into the ground, Doggett knew his lover was effectively combining methods two and three of dealing with his emotions - he was working ridiculously long hours, not taking good care of himself, and thus effectively punishing himself in the process. It had to stop.

Doggett decided that it was time to remind his lover who was calling the shots in this relationship. He knew it wouldn't be easy but if he didn't act then he was sure Skinner would end up back in the hospital - only this time it would have nothing to do with nanocytes. Doggett intended raising the subject on one of their increasingly rare dates, only to find, when he arrived at Skinner's apartment to pick him up, that his lover wasn't home. He let himself into the apartment with his spare key, waited for fifteen minutes, his temper rising as each second passed, and then, finally, he got out his cellphone and called Skinner's office.

"Skinner," his lover answered, in a snappy tone. Doggett gritted his teeth - he had hoped that Skinner was in his car on his way home, but if he was still in the office then it looked as if he'd forgotten their date altogether - or was avoiding it.

"Walter - we had a date," Doggett said calmly, thinking that maybe a genuine crisis was claiming the other man's attention.

"John? What time is...? Oh, shit. I'm sorry. I got caught up in something I'm working on," Skinner said apologetically.

"Anything urgent?" Doggett asked in a deceptively casual tone of voice, keeping a firm check on his temper.

"No - just complicated. I don't want to leave it now, since it'll be tough to pick up my train of thought again in the morning. I'll be another hour."

"No you won't," Doggett snapped. "You'll be 15 minutes. Get your ass into your car and get home now."

There was silence on the other end of the phone as Skinner considered his lover's tone of voice and none-too-gently expressed command.

"John, I'm busy," he said finally. "And I'd like to remind you that you agreed never to interfere with my work."

"As a matter of fact I didn't, Walter," Doggett told him firmly. "I said I would always treat you with the respect due to your rank at work, but I'm not at work right now and you shouldn't be either. Now get your ass home or I'll come and get it - and believe me, I'll be in a very bad mood indeed if you drag me out to the Hoover Building tonight."

"Fuck this, you don't own me, John. If I say I have to work then I do," Skinner responded angrily.

"Your wife might'a bought that bullshit but I don't," Doggett snapped. "I know your work, Walter, and I know that right now you are using it as an excuse. I also know that if you keep this up you'll wind up back in the hospital - or worse. I'm not giving up on you, Walter. You either come home or I come and get you but I'm not dropping this and we will talk about it. So you can either have this discussion in the privacy of your own apartment, or you can have it in your office. It's up to you."

There was another silence on the end of the phone, and then Skinner growled an angry "fine" into the phone and slammed it down. Doggett replaced the phone in his jacket pocket. He didn't know whether the "fine" meant that Skinner was coming back or not but gave the other man the benefit of the doubt, and was rewarded, twenty minutes later, when he heard Skinner's key in the lock. Any doubts about whether he'd done the right thing were expelled the moment he saw Skinner's face. The other man's eyes were red-rimmed from lack of sleep and overwork, his cheeks were hollow, and his breathing was shallow from relying on caffeine alone to keep him going. His face was haggard and his skin almost grey. He slammed the door shut, threw his keys into a tray on the hall table, and then strode into the living room, his whole body trembling with emotion.

"Don't you ever do this to me again," he growled, coming to a halt in front of Doggett.

"Ever do what? Care about you enough to notice that you're working yourself into the grave? Sorry, Walter, but that's a promise I won't make," Doggett replied calmly. He sat down, thus defusing some of the tension in the room and giving Skinner no chance to escalate it.

"Damn you, John. My work is important!"

"I know. I also know that if there's this much work to be done then the FBI is cutting costs by not employing enough ADs because right now you're doing the work of at least two Assistant Directors, Walter. So either you speak to Human Resources, or you admit to yourself that you're trying to hide behind those walls of yours again."

Skinner glared at him, his eyes dark and angry behind the wirerims.

"I am not..." he began and then he took a deep breath and held onto the couch, swaying slightly. Doggett was on his feet in seconds. He put a hand under Skinner's elbow, and held him up.

"Not what? Not relying on caffeine to keep you going? That argument might work better if you weren't struggling to stay on your feet right now. When did you last eat, Water?"

"This morning," Skinner growled, clearly angry with himself for showing any sign of weakness.

"Well it's 9.30 now so that was at least 12 hours ago," Doggett told him.

"I'm just tired," Skinner muttered.

"I rest my case." Doggett shrugged. "You are tired, and you need a break - and I'm going to see that's exactly what you get. You're going to eat the take out I'm about to order for you, then I'm putting you to bed and you're going to stay there until I let you get up. When you go into work tomorrow you're going to inform Kim that you're taking a few days leave. You'll take Thursday, Friday, Monday and Tuesday off. I'll pick you up at 8am on Thursday morning - that's the day after tomorrow in case you've lost track of time - and I expect you to be waiting downstairs for me with a bag full of casual clothes packed for a few days in the hills."

"I can't," Skinner said flatly, sitting down heavily on the couch as if his feet would no longer keep him upright. "I can't possibly go away at such short notice. I have meetings planned, appointments to keep."

"Kim will cancel them," Doggett told him firmly. "Walter, do I need to remind you that you agreed I'm in charge in this relationship until you get a handle on your life again?"

Skinner looked up at him sharply, his dark eyes flashing rebelliously. Doggett held his gaze steadily. After a while Skinner sighed and looked away.

"John, I'm just going through a busy patch, that's all," he said wearily. "There's no need for you to worry about me."

"There's every need and I've asked around - you're no busier than usual. You're just refusing to delegate so you can bury yourself in your work. That way you can avoid some of the issues you've been struggling with. But I have news for you, Walter - they ain't goin' anywhere. And neither am I." Doggett crossed his arms firmly and looked down into the other man's dark eyes.

"Well, then we don't agree," Skinner said, refusing to back down. "What are you going to do, John? Tie me up and drag me on vacation with you?"

Doggett looked down at him steadily. "If need be," he replied firmly. Skinner gave a grunt.

"I don't believe you," he said but his eyes showed a glimmer of uncertainty.

"Just keep pushing me and you'll find out exactly what lengths I'll go to in order to keep you healthy and safe, Walter," Doggett replied. "Now I ain't discussing this any more - I get little enough time with you as it is and I'm not going to waste it arguin'. I'll expect you to be waiting for me outside your apartment at 8am on Thursday. Don't push me any further on this, Walter because I am not in a good mood."

Doggett ordered food, and they ate in strained silence. Then Doggett, true to his word, ordered his lover into bed. Skinner was so tired by this point that he could hardly keep his eyes open so he obeyed Doggett without demur and within seconds of laying his head on the pillow, he was fast asleep. Doggett sighed, and lay on the bed, fully dressed, beside his lover. He put one arm around the other man and pulled him close, then gently stroked the side of Skinner's smooth scalp with his fingers. Skinner was so tired he didn't wake up. Doggett gazed down at the other man and saw the lines of exhaustion etched on his face.

"Why d'you do this to yourself, huh?" He whispered softly. "The trouble is we're both too strong willed," he murmured. "Both of us like two bulls goin' at each other until we're worn out. Trouble for you is that you're already dog-tired before you even start, so you don't even stand a chance of winning. I like your fire, Walter, but I think you need me to be stronger than you right now, so that's what I'm goin' to be, however much it pisses you off. Better hold tight, Corporal, because I think this particular roller coaster is going to get mighty bumpy." He bent his head and kissed Skinner's smooth scalp fondly. "Christ I love you, Corporal," he whispered. "But I'm going to be one mean son of a bitch if that's what it takes to get through to you. I expect people usually just see the big, strong guy with the no-nonsense, take charge manner, and back down, figuring that you're too much to take on. Well, I'm takin' you on, Walter. Even the big, strong guys need takin' care of occasionally, after all." He smiled, his fingers gently soothing Skinner's forehead. "I ain't backing off like all the other people in your life. I'm not scared of you, Walter Skinner - I can see right through those walls of yours and the view ain't anywhere near as bad as you think it is. Just hold on, Corporal. I'll see you don't fall. Just hold on." And he kissed Skinner's head again, lost in thought about what to do next.

*-*-*-*

Doggett had no idea whether Skinner would be waiting for him on Thursday morning or not. He hadn't spoken to the other man in the meantime, and while he wasn't entirely sure what he'd do if Skinner wasn't there, he knew he'd think of something. He was hoping it wouldn't come to that though. When he rounded the corner in his jeep dead on the dot of 8am and came within sight of the Viva Towers his heart sank. He couldn't see Skinner. With a sigh he pulled up in front of the building...and that was when he saw the tall figure sitting on a low wall by the entrance, a baseball cap pulled down over his eyes, and a bag resting at his feet. He was wearing a red and black plaid shirt and black jeans, and Doggett's heart did a little flip. He got out of the jeep, and Skinner looked up at him from under the brim of his baseball cap.

"Thank you, Walter," Doggett said softly.

"For what? Being here?" Skinner growled. "I don't know why I am here. It took Kim all of yesterday just to clear my diary and god knows how much work will pile up while I'm gone."

"Even Assistant Directors are entitled to vacations," Doggett commented mildly. He picked up Skinner's bag and threw it into the back of the jeep, then got in himself and waited. Skinner eyed him, his jaw crunching almost audibly as he fought an internal battle over his co-operation, and then, finally, he gave in, swung the door open, and got in beside Doggett.

They were silent for the first hour of the drive. Skinner hunkered down in his seat, pulled his cap down over his eyes, and promptly fell asleep. He awoke with a start when they were well clear of DC and looked around, befuddled.

"Am I allowed to ask where we're going?" He said, pushing back his cap and glancing at Doggett.

"Sure. I was wondering what was taking you so long," Doggett replied with a grin. He was already starting to relax. It felt good, being out on the open road, driving along with the radio blaring out at full blast. "We're going to the Silvermist Mountain Lodge. We've still got a long way to drive, Walter, so why not lie back, chill out, and start relaxing."

"Silvermist Mountain Lodge? What kind of a place is that?" Skinner asked.

"It's nice - set in the hills, nobody for miles around. We get our own cabin so we can make as much noise as we like," Doggett grinned, and deliberately touched Skinner's thigh as he changed gear. He was rewarded when Skinner's pants tented slightly in response and he grinned even more widely at that. "There's an en-suite Jacuzzi, huge fireplaces, and you can order food to be brought to the cabin if you don't want to get dressed." He winked at Skinner who grunted in reply. "The hills are fantastic - lots of great walking trails, and there's a sports complex as well in case you feel like a rematch in the boxing ring, Slugger."

He paused to allow that to sink in - he knew that Skinner had to have the same fond memories he had about the fantastic sex that had followed their last sparring match.

"It's relaxed - the cabins are spaced out so you don't have to see anyone else if you don't want to - except me of course. The scenery is magnificent - lots of local wildlife. It's the perfect place to relax and get away from it all."

Skinner nodded. He gazed at the road ahead of them for a moment then spoke again.

"Did you go there with Tony?" He asked and Doggett's mood came crashing down. He glanced at Skinner angrily, but it was clear from the expression in Skinner's eyes that he hadn't intended it to be a malicious or mischievous question. There was a sense of uncertainty in those dark eyes, and Doggett wondered what that was about.

"Yes, I did," he replied. "Although it was wasted on Tony. He was your original city boy - he liked the bright lights too much. He hated the quiet out in the woods, hated the walkin' I insisted we do...he enjoyed the sex though. It was kind of liberating being in a remote little cabin on a hillside - nobody to hear him scream he said, and he used to save his kinkiest ideas for when we were at Silvermist." Doggett glanced at Skinner again to see how well that piece of news had gone down.

"Did you tie him up?" Skinner asked quietly. Doggett knew that Skinner had a strange kind of fascination about the impromptu bondage session of several weeks previously. Doggett had never tied him again, and Skinner had never asked him too, but sometimes Skinner brought it up in conversation, as if it was something he wanted to explore but didn't know how to admit that to himself - or to Doggett.

"Sure. He used to bring a bag load of stuff with him. Had to sit me down and explain how some of it worked, and I never could be bothered with half of it - it just got in the way."

Skinner's jaw did its sideways slide, and Doggett knew that this was something that they had to address - and Silvermist was the best place for that.

"I might tie you up again at Silvermist, Walter," he said softly. "How d'you feel about that?"

Skinner's body tensed, but his eyes told a different story. "I don't know," he shrugged.

"Just as part of sex - nothin' more. Nothing like last time. This time it'll be for fun," Doggett said, in a low, sexy voice. "I know how to make it really good fun, Walter."

He had the feeling that Skinner needed, now more than ever, to be given permission to let go. Skinner had spoken of finding bondage liberating and if ever a man needed to be liberated right now it was Walter Skinner.

"I'm not sure," Skinner muttered, turning his head and glancing out of the window, perhaps to avoid meeting Doggett's gaze.

"Well, that's okay - it's my decision anyway, Corporal," Doggett said. He intended to play the heavy during this mini-vacation so he might as well start now. Skinner's head snapped around, his expression surprised. "I won't do anything you can't handle, Corporal," Doggett told him firmly. "I told you that before. I might extend your comfort zone, push you a little further than you'd normally go, but that's all. You'll be quite safe with me - you might not feel that way but you will be."

"You're saying I don't have a choice?" Skinner asked, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Yup - you gave up control to me remember, Walter."

"How can I forget? You keep reminding me every five minutes," Skinner growled, but Doggett had come to realise that his lover's bark was definitely worse than his bite so he just smiled to himself and kept on driving.

*

Skinner was silent for most of the rest of the long drive. He didn't seem to be sulking - Doggett had long ago realised that sulking wasn't Skinner's style. He did have a tendency to go very quiet though, which was precisely what he was doing now. He was polite and answered questions when asked, but simply didn't have any conversation beyond that. Doggett knew this pattern all too well - those walls of Skinner's were in place and holding, but he also knew that with time away from the distractions of work in which to really think, Skinner might have a difficult few days, and he intended to be here to support the other man in any way he could - including by being tough on him if necessary.

They reached Silvermist in the late afternoon. Doggett felt all his cares and worries slip away as they drove further and further into the hills. It was beautiful and serene up here, and he loved the place. It had been to Silvermist that he'd driven one night after the investigation into the murder of his son had yielded yet another dead end, and it was here where he'd broken down, gone to pieces, lost himself in his tears, guilt and pain, and then slowly started to build himself back together again. The stillness and beauty of the hills had soothed him, and it was here that he'd resolved to make a fresh start of his life, and find some meaning to it even after his great loss. He hoped he could help Skinner find a similar resolution to his problems up here away from the pressing issues of work.

Doggett drew up outside the main lodge to collect their key, then drove them out into the hillside and drew up outside their cabin. Skinner got out of the car and stretched. He looked at the pretty, wooden cabin, buried deep within a copse of trees. A small pond was just visible in the distance and some ducks were aimlessly waddling around it, quacking as they went.

"This is a beautiful place, John," he commented and Doggett could see some of the tension dropping away from the other man's body already.

"Wait until you see in the cabin," he replied with a grin.

He opened the door and ushered Skinner inside. An open fire was already blazing in the fireplace, waiting for them. The cabin was warm and cosy - just one large bedroom with a King-sized bed, a kitchen, living area complete with TV, and a huge bathroom, with a Jacuzzi as promised. Doggett found the bottle of champagne he'd ordered chilling in the fridge and got it out with a smile.

"Are we celebrating something?" Skinner asked with a frown.

"Sure. Our first vacation together - and the achievement of dragging you away from your work," Doggett replied, his smile broadening into a grin. Skinner managed a faded smile of his own, and accepted the glass of champagne that Doggett gave him.

"No toast?" he murmured as Doggett began sipping his drink.

"Maybe before we leave we'll have something to toast," Doggett replied. Skinner gave a little grunt and his shoulders hunched uncomfortably again. Doggett decided he really needed to do something to distract Skinner and get him in the mood for the vacation - and sooner rather than later. "Go and get the bags in from the car, Corporal," he ordered. "I'm going to call for some food, and then we're going to get down to business."

"And what exactly is business?" Skinner asked.

"You'll see." Doggett nodded in the direction of the car and Skinner turned, reluctantly, and went to bring in the bags.

*

The food was delicious. They ate on the floor in front of the fire, watching CNN. Both men sat, engrossed in the news, chewing silently. Usually they'd talk, discuss the day's news events, indulge in some light banter, argue over some issue or other in the news - both of them loved doing that, but on this occasion they were silent, each lost in his own thoughts. Doggett was preparing for what he knew would be an evening of surprises for Skinner - he just hoped he'd get it right. While he had always been forceful in the bedroom, he'd never actually taken Skinner where he intended on taking him tonight and it was a risk. He knew if he told the other man what his plans were then Skinner might refuse and yet he was fairly sure this was what Skinner needed. He just hoped he was right.

It was dark outside by the time they'd finished eating and cleared away. Doggett got up, grabbed their still unpacked bags, and took them into the bedroom. He slung Skinner's onto the bed and began unpacking his own. Skinner followed and started hanging up his clothing, then paused, and watched, warily, as Doggett pulled out the padded leather cuffs and set them on the nightstand.

"John, about what you said in the car..." Skinner began.

"Walter - don't worry about it," Doggett replied softly but firmly. "I'm taking away your choices, Corporal. You don't have to think about this, or wonder whether you want it or not. It's just going to happen."

Skinner swallowed hard, and glanced at the cuffs again.

"Corporal - just relax and trust me. This is going to be good, but first you have to let go. I know that isn't easy for you, but that's why you need it so badly."

Doggett finished unpacking and pushed his bag into the closet. Then he went over to where Skinner was standing, unmoving, still gazing at the cuffs, lost in thought.

"Come on, Corporal - finish unpacking. I want this done by the time I get back from the bathroom," Doggett ordered. He went to the bathroom, peed, and then took a brief shower to wash away the journey and to give himself time to think. His cock was already starting to ache at the thought of what the evening would bring so he jerked off quickly and efficiently in preparation - he wanted to keep going for a long time and he didn't want to worry about coming too soon. Then he dried himself, put on a robe, and walked back into the bedroom. Skinner was standing beside the bed, almost at attention, his arms hanging stiffly by his sides.

"Walter," Doggett said softly. Skinner jumped as if he hadn't even been aware Doggett was in the room.

"Sorry, John. I was miles away." Skinner gave a faded, strained smile that tugged at Doggett's heartstrings. If only Skinner would just give himself up to it he knew the other man would enjoy himself, but Skinner was still thinking too much and avoiding his feelings as a result. "John...I know you're pissed off with me right now. I can see I've been shutting you out and I apologise. I'm not sure what you have in mind for tonight but I'm assuming you want to..." Skinner paused and took a deep breath. "I don't know. Punish me in some way for screwing up these past few weeks, taking on too much at work...and I accept that. If you feel you need to use your belt on me again then..."

"Walter," Doggett interrupted him. Skinner stopped the torrent of words and looked at his lover uncertainly. "Shut up," Doggett said.

Skinner closed his mouth, and his jaw did a sideways clench. He looked as if this was some kind of nasty ordeal he had to endure in order to atone for what he perceived as all his many sins.

"Listen to me, Corporal," Doggett rapped out, going to stand in front of Skinner, invading his territory so they were almost nose to nose. "I told you I wouldn't let you use me to punish yourself, or indulge in any kind of self-torture or loathing. That isn't going to happen so don't think for a second that tonight is going to be about that. It isn't. I'm not going to use my belt on you. I never had any intention of it. Tonight is about control. It's about you giving it up to me, willingly, and me taking it and using it to break down those walls of yours and finally get you to relax. There's only one rule you need to obey tonight, and that's doing as I say - immediately, without question. That's all you have to remember."

He put his hands on Skinner's shoulders and the other man jumped and stared straight ahead. Doggett stroked Skinner's shoulders softly until his lover relaxed a fraction.

"Good man. Now, do you understand what I just said to you?" He asked.

Skinner still avoided his gaze. He shrugged, and glanced at the floor instead.

"I guess. I'm not sure what the hell good you think this will do, John, but..." Skinner shrugged again, his eyes wary and guarded, his face closed off. Doggett sensed the walls being fortified against imminent attack and knew he had to do something to throw Skinner off-guard, and find a way in.

"I'm going to undress you," he said softly. Skinner's gaze met his own, uncertain, and questioning. "Slowly, Corporal," Doggett said. "Very slowly." He ran his fingers over Skinner's arms, up to the collar of his shirt, and began unbuttoning it. "Just relax, Walter. Arms by your sides," he ordered as Skinner's hands came up automatically to rest on his butt. Skinner removed his hands and Doggett continued unbuttoning his lover's shirt. He went very slowly as promised, and Skinner stood there, his face stony, his eyes dark, as if he was being subjected to something unpleasant, and not simply being asked to stand still while he was caressed.

"I said relax," Doggett purred, nuzzling Skinner's neck. The big man tensed. Doggett slapped him lightly on his jeans covered butt. "Obey me, Corporal. This is goin' to happen - it's just a question of how long it takes."

Doggett was prepared for it to go on all night if need be, until Skinner had given up control to him, because only then did he think he could find a way past those walls. Skinner gave a low growl - Doggett knew the problem his lover was having. They had made love in many different ways during their time together, but while Doggett had always been assertive and forceful in the bedroom, he'd never insisted on this degree of control before - and Skinner had never been less in a frame of mind to give it up.

Doggett finished unbuttoning the big man's shirt and pushed it aside gently. It never ceased to arouse him to reveal the acres of broad, tanned flesh that lay beneath the clothing and he took a few moments to appreciate it - much to Skinner's chagrin. Doggett knew his scrutiny embarrassed his lover but he ignored Skinner's embarrassment at the open admiration. He gently teased a nipple with his fingers and Skinner gave a little gasp of arousal. His hands came up to rest on Doggett's hips as he steadied himself. Doggett slapped his jeans covered rump again.

"Hands by your side, Walter. Just go with it."

He eased Skinner's shirt from his shoulders and let it slide to the floor, then bent his head to tease Skinner's nipples with his mouth. He spent several long minutes licking and sucking and gradually he felt Skinner unwind slightly, his body twisting and undulating under Doggett's insistent caress. Finally, Doggett released him. Reaching up, he scooped off the wirerims and placed them out of harm's way on the nightstand.

"You don't need to see anything, Walter," he said, cutting off Skinner's objection just as it began. "You just need to experience. Now hold tight."

Keeping one hand on Skinner's body, Doggett moved around to stand behind his lover. He kissed Skinner's shoulder blades gently, then sucked on his neck. Skinner bowed his head forward and Doggett slapped his butt again.

"Keep in position, Corporal," he commanded. Skinner obeyed, and Doggett felt the energy beginning to build between them. It was so good to have this big, strong man, bending to his will, doing as he was commanded, and giving in to his own sexuality. Whatever doubts Skinner might have about his enjoyment of sex with another man, Doggett wanted to dispel them once and for all. However Skinner might feel about it mentally, he wouldn't be able to deny how good it felt physically.

Slowly, Doggett licked Skinner's back, from the top of his broad shoulders to the waistband of his jeans. He spent several long, languorous minutes just trailing his tongue over the naked flesh, enjoying the slightly salty taste. Then he stood up close behind Skinner, his cock pressing through the front of his robe and nestling against Skinner's jeans.

"You feel that, Walter?" He purred. "Soon I'm going to put you on your hands and knees and fuck you. How do you feel about that? Hmmm?" He kissed the back of Skinner's neck and felt the other man shudder with arousal. "You want that? Hmmm? You want me to take you from behind, with you on your hands and knees. Would you like that?" Skinner arched his back as Doggett ran one sharp fingernail down his spine. "I think you'd like that," Doggett whispered, digging his fingernail in deeper. Skinner fought it for a moment, his body arched and rigid and then gave in, and hung his head again.

"Yes, sir," he whispered. Doggett felt a thrill of arousal at the word 'sir'. Skinner rarely addressed him in this way but it made his cock instantly hard to hear it.

"I thought you'd like that, Corporal. My cock inside your ass - you on your knees, takin' it, submitting to me - I thought you'd enjoy that."

He put his arms around the front of Skinner's chest and took a nipple between thumb and forefinger, pinching lightly. Skinner stiffened against his chest.

"Hold it, Corporal. Let me play," Doggett whispered, relaxing his grip on the nipple without letting go. With his other hand he took Skinner's other nipple in his fingers and pinched down hard. Skinner stiffened against him again. Doggett sucked on his neck, relaxing him at the same time as keeping up the pressure on his nipple. Skinner gasped, and pressed back against him.

"Good, Corporal, just keep in position," Doggett murmured. He kissed Skinner's neck, and then released the abused nipple - only to pinch the other one tightly instead. Skinner barely had time to relax before he was gasping again as the new nipple began to pain him. Doggett enjoyed the way his lover leaned back against him, relying on Doggett to hold him up, allowing him to play with his body. This was good - Skinner was already giving up control to him. The energy between them was starting to glow and grow, becoming almost tangible. Doggett hoped Skinner felt it, hoped the other man wasn't just enduring this, enjoying the hurt as some kind of punishment for his perceived failings. He released his hold on the nipple, and kissed Skinner's neck again, then, instead of squeezing the nipple he'd neglected for the past few seconds as Skinner was obviously expecting, he pinched the one he'd just released again. Skinner gave a little roar in the back of his throat and tried to pull away - but Doggett held on tight.

"Back in position, Corporal!" he rapped out.

"No...fuck this...let me go," Skinner hissed, starting to struggle.

"I said - back in position, Corporal," Doggett commanded in his most authoritative voice. Skinner struggled with it for a long time, his body rigid. He tried to pull away but Doggett had his arms wrapped tightly around him, and there was an uncertainty about Skinner - he clearly wasn't sure whether he wanted to be released or not. Part of him did - part of him was fighting giving up control, but another part of him longed to give in.

"Just let it happen," Doggett purred. He wasn't doing more than pinching hard and he knew Skinner needed to be taken down before he could give anything up. It wasn't seriously hurting but Skinner was skittish and unsure and needed firm handling. Skinner's struggling slowed and then stopped, and he stood there, his chest heaving as he tried to adjust to Doggett's firm fingers, digging into his nipple.

"Good man." Doggett released the nipple and rewarded Skinner with another kiss. Then, without warning, he seized the other nipple and began pinching again - harder this time, pushing Skinner to react. Skinner gave a moan, his body quivering, but this time he didn't break position. "That's good, Corporal. That's very good. Give it all up, give it to me," Doggett murmured into his lover's ear. "Don't tense - just let me do the thinking and acting. Let me do it all."

He released the nipple, gave Skinner the kiss of reward, and then played with both nipples, gently rubbing them for several minutes. At first Skinner was tense, despite Doggett's command not to be - he was clearly waiting for the next pinch. Finally he started to relax and that was when Doggett struck again, squeezing both nipples hard this time - harder than before, holding them for a long beat and then releasing one of them but maintaining his hold on the other, so Skinner was never quite sure where the pain would come from next.

Doggett kept up the nipple squeezing for several minutes and eventually Skinner began to go with the flow, and stopped anticipating which nipple would be pinched. That was what Doggett had been waiting for. He released both nipples, moved his hands down to the waistband of Skinner's jeans and began undoing them, remaining in position behind Skinner, their cheeks touching.

"How you doing, Corporal?" Doggett asked, turning his head sideways to look at his lover. The other man's eyes were closed but his face was still a little too strained for Doggett's liking. He was still trying to figure out what would happen next, instead of just accepting Doggett's commands. "Don't think," Doggett whispered. "Just feel. Don't anticipate, just respond." He finished unbuttoning Skinner's jeans and slid his hand down the front of them. Skinner's cock was hard and straining so he was obviously aroused by his submission - something that Doggett had never doubted for a second.

"Okay, here's the deal, Corporal," he said, in low, throaty, deeply sexual tones. "This cock is mine tonight. I don't want you touching it. I don't want you coming until I say you can. You have to keep goin' for a long time and it won't be easy. Any time you think you're going to come then tell me - I'm sure I can find a way to discourage it." He squeezed hard on Skinner's cock head as he spoke those words and Skinner let out an enraged growl. "Dampens down the need, huh?" Doggett purred, still squeezing hard. Skinner struggled again.

"I can't do this, John. I don't know where we're going...I don't know what you expect of me," Skinner hissed, his muscles bunching tight.

Doggett released Skinner's cock and began caressing it again. It wavered for a moment, but soon returned to its fully erect state.

"Yes you do, Corporal," he told the shaking man, "because I already told you. I'm going to be givin' you orders and you're going to obey them. You understand all about obeying orders don't you, Corporal?"

Skinner was silent, his head bowed, his face screwed up as he struggled with the idea of giving up so much control.

"I asked you a question, Corporal!" Doggett rapped out. "I need an answer," Doggett insisted. "All you have to do is obey my orders. That's all. I'm not asking any more of you. Now, can you do that?"

Skinner let out a huge sigh and then gave a reluctant nod. "Yes, sir," he whispered.

"Good. Now, what order did I just give you?" Doggett asked, seizing lover's cock again and squeezing it just hard enough to be mildly painful. Skinner tensed.

"Not to come, sir. Not to touch my cock, sir," Skinner managed to say between clenched teeth.

"Good, Corporal." Doggett released his cock and began stroking it gently instead. Skinner relaxed against him, and Doggett spent several minutes playing with his lover's balls, fondling them and caressing them until Skinner was boneless with arousal once more.

Doggett finally released him, and, still keeping one hand on his lover's body, walked back around to face him once more. He removed the big man's shoes and socks, then pushed Skinner's jeans and briefs down his body, and ordered the big man to step out of them. When Skinner was completely naked, Doggett took hold of his hand and led him over to the bed. Doggett sat on the bed, opened his legs wide, and pulled Skinner between them. He closed his legs around Skinner's body, and then resumed his stroking. Skinner's thick cock was now straining with need, but Doggett ignored it for several minutes. Instead he stroked the other man's inner thigh, tangled his hand in Skinner's chest hair, and then finally placed both his hands on Skinner's buttocks. He fondled those twin globes of flesh for a long time, before suddenly moving his head forward and taking Skinner's cock in his mouth. The big man gasped and put his hands on Doggett's shoulders to stay upright. Doggett drew back immediately.

"Hands by your sides, Corporal. And don't come. If you feel you're going to shoot then tell me," he ordered. Skinner nodded, his eyes glazed with arousal.

Doggett resumed sucking Skinner's cock. He loved the feel of the smooth skin stretched over the hardness, and soon he felt Skinner's balls start to constrict.

"Sir...I need to..." Skinner muttered, in a strangled tone. Doggett drew back and squeezed Skinner's cock head hard enough to prevent him coming.

"Deep breaths, Corporal," Doggett purred. Skinner obeyed. Doggett smiled, and got up. "All right, Corporal, it's time for me to fuck you," he said in that same low, throaty tone. "I'm going to take you from behind and fuck you hard up the ass," he purred. Skinner looked at him, uncertainty etched in his expression. "Get on the bed on your hands and knees. You'll have to stay that way to keep balance so you won't be able to touch your cock," Doggett informed him. Skinner swallowed hard, still clearly unsure about where this was going - would Doggett even allow him to come, or was tonight all about Doggett taking his pleasure and Skinner being denied his? His confusion was evident in his eyes and Doggett slapped him lightly on the rump to stop him doing too much thinking. "Just do it, Corporal," he ordered.

Skinner hesitated.

"We've done this before, Corporal," Doggett reminded him. They had - but never like this, with Doggett insisting that Skinner obey him, and never being taken from behind in such an exposed and vulnerable way, and with it being so clearly a matter of dominance and submission. Skinner's cock showed his arousal but his eyes showed his fear.

"Do you want me to get tough with you, Corporal?" Doggett asked. He moved fast and slapped Skinner's backside sharply. Skinner jumped at the sting and turned on his lover angrily.

"Fuck you," he hissed but Doggett felt the words lacked any real fire.

"No, I'm going to fuck you - now do as you're told and get on the bed," he insisted.

"No," Skinner snapped, although his eyes and cock told a different story.

Doggett stepped forward, pulled Skinner into a rough embrace, grabbed the other man's buttocks and kneaded them hard at the same time as kissing his lips with a force that was almost savage. Skinner struggled for a moment, and then surrendered to the embrace. Doggett kissed him for a long time, his hands active and masterful on Skinner's body. He knew from the hardness of his lover's cock that Skinner was enjoying being made to submit - even that the struggle was part of what turned him on, and he felt it was safe to continue. He drew back, turned Skinner around, and slapped his ass hard again.

"I said get on the bed, Corporal. Do it. Now!" He ordered.

Skinner glanced at him over his shoulder from under his eyelashes, but he did as he was told, climbing onto the bed and getting into position. Any doubts Doggett might have had about how turned on Skinner was by the scenario were dispelled by the way Skinner knelt, his ass held provocatively in the air, wiggling slightly as if to encourage Doggett. His turned his head to look at Doggett again and his eyes were light and glowing in invitation, signalling that he was ready and willing despite his apprehension. Doggett stood for a moment and just enjoyed the sight of Walter Skinner kneeling in such an exposed position, waiting for his lover's attention. His cock almost screamed with need he was so aroused.

"Get that butt up higher, Corporal," he ordered. "Offer it up for me to fuck." Skinner obeyed, raising his smooth golden buttocks even higher in the air. "That's good, Corporal, you look good like this, ass up, waiting to be fucked," Doggett purred. He placed his hands on Skinner's buttocks and kneaded them firmly. Skinner's legs were at the foot of the bed, and, raised as he was by the mattress, Doggett was in the perfect position to mount him while standing behind him.

Doggett reached for the lubricant and condoms, and opened his robe. His erection was large and purpling and he was longing to relieve it. He had every sympathy with Skinner's own straining erection but he didn't intend to let the big man come any time soon. He lubed his fingers and entered Skinner, massaging his anus. Skinner opened up to him quickly, leaning back onto Doggett's fingers, and before long Doggett was sliding his condom into place, and then lubing it.

"Ready, Corporal?" he asked, stroking Skinner's back and buttocks. "Are you ready to take me up the ass, Corporal?" he demanded more insistently when there was no reply.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," Skinner panted.

Doggett smiled, the energy between them almost tangible. Skinner was finally letting go, giving in, giving it up to him and it was such a good feeling. He seized the big man's buttocks in his hands and parted them, then nudged his cock into Skinner's entrance. His lover gave a gasp as Doggett's cock breached the ring of muscle but once he was in, Doggett sank himself smoothly up to the hilt in Skinner's warm tightness. As he slid home he almost lost consciousness - it felt so good. He paused for a moment to get his breath back, and held on to Skinner's hips for support. He didn't slide his hand under the big man's body to touch his cock - he had something else in mind for that.

"How does that feel, Corporal?" he asked, adjusting his position slightly. It felt damn good to him! Skinner on his hands and knees submissively on the bed, Doggett standing behind him buried to the hilt in his lover's body. It felt wonderful.

"Feels...oh shit..." Skinner murmured as Doggett shifted slightly and rocked his weight forward, knowing he would be brushing Skinner's prostate in the process. "Oh god, it feels so good," Skinner breathed. Doggett grinned; Skinner had a submissive streak that he kept well hidden, but he knew the big man found the position - being on his hands and knees, ass in the air, being ridden while being denied the opportunity to come - as arousing as the actual physical sensations. He began to rock in and out, going maddeningly slowly. Skinner raised his head and looked straight ahead, breathing heavily.

"Take it, Corporal, take it real slow," Doggett murmured, sliding in and out at a snail's pace, enjoying the sight of the dark red flesh of his cock as it disappeared into his lover's body and then emerged again. Skinner gasped and put his head back, sweat pouring off his forehead.

"Please, sir...I need to come," he whispered.

"Not yet, Corporal." Doggett moved his hand around to Skinner's cock and pinched the head. The big man gave a groan of disappointment. Doggett kept up the pressure for some time until he was sure that Skinner had lost the immediate urge to come, and then he returned his attention to his own cock. He grabbed Skinner's buttocks and began to pump into his lover in earnest.

"Can you feel this, Corporal - you're being fucked, hard and fast," Doggett panted as he slammed in and out. "D'you like this? Huh?" He demanded, needing an answer.

"Yes, sir!" Skinner almost shouted.

Doggett laughed as he pounded, going so fast now he was a mass of sensation - Skinner's tight muscle clenching around his cock, Skinner's flesh warm and smooth under his hands, the scent of their arousal in the air, the noises Skinner made with every inward thrust, his own sweat running down his face...then he was coming, deep inside the other man's body. Coming and coming over and over again inside his sweet Corporal's tight, warm flesh. Doggett keeled forward and held onto Skinner's back as his climax subsided. Skinner remained where he was, his own neglected cock still hard with need. Finally Doggett dismounted.

"At ease, Corporal," he said softly, and Skinner flopped down on the bed, and looked at him with dark, passionate eyes.

"Thank you, sir," he said, and Doggett suspected that Skinner was living out his own submissive fantasy, enjoying calling his lover 'sir', and totally relishing giving up control to him.

"I haven't finished with you yet, Corporal," he said, going over to the nightstand and picking up the cuffs. "I'm going to tie you to the bed," he said, giving Skinner plenty of time to get used to the idea. Skinner's eyes registered panic tempered by the fascination he'd had with the cuffs since Doggett had first used them on him. "Hands out, Corporal," Doggett ordered. Skinner's jaw did another sideways clench.

"I'm not sure about this, Sergeant," he whispered.

Doggett felt a warm glow at being addressed as 'Sergeant'. It showed how into the scene Skinner was - and he was sure that the resistance was only token. He knew that Skinner feared the loss of control implicit in being tied up, but he also knew that Skinner craved it as well. He wanted to have the control taken from him but he needed help in getting there.

"It's an order, Corporal, not a discussion," Doggett told him firmly. "Obey me!"

"John..." Skinner's eyes were agonised.

"What's the problem, Corporal?" Doggett asked in a much softer tone, caressing Skinner's arm gently with his fingers. "What's going on?"

"I'm not going to be any good at this, John," Skinner admitted, shamefaced. "I have to fight it. I can't stop myself. I need to fight it. I'll let you down. I'm not Tony," he said in a hoarse tone. "I can't be what you want me to be."

Doggett remembered Skinner's uncertain look in the car when they had discussed Tony - so this was what that had been about? Skinner didn't think he could live up to Tony's prowess in the bedroom? Doggett almost laughed out loud. Skinner couldn't be more wrong.

"Corporal, I don't want a carbon copy of Tony Larsen - I'm much more interested in Walter Skinner," he said firmly. "As for fighting it - you can, as much as you like. That's part of what the bondage does for you. It gives you a safe place to let all that frustration out. I know you don't like being tied, I know it makes you feel helpless, vulnerable and anxious, but I also think it's exactly what you need right now, and that you'll feel great about it afterwards - but you have to trust me on that. Do you trust me, Walter?"

Skinner searched his face for a long time and then sighed. "Yeah, I trust you, John," he murmured. "I still don't want to be tied but I do trust you."

"Good. Then hold out your hands," Doggett ordered.

Skinner hesitated for only a second before obeying. Doggett sat down on the bed, and fastened the cuffs onto Skinner's wrists, taking his time, making sure the cuffs were comfortable and tight enough not to slip. When he'd finished with Skinner's wrists, he moved onto his ankles and spent a long time fastening the cuffs there as well, going slowly as before.

"Lie on your back, arms and legs stretched out," Doggett commanded when he was done, and Skinner obeyed without hesitation this time. The bed had a wooden headboard with slats in it and it was an easy matter to fasten the cuffs to the headboard. Skinner panicked the moment they were fastened, and pulled on the cuffs hard, looking to Doggett for reassurance.

"It's okay, Walter...you're safe," Doggett told him softly, stroking his body to calm him. "Fight it all you like - you won't be able to get free."

Skinner's eyes flashed defiantly and he pulled desperately on the bonds for several minutes, panting and struggling. Doggett watched, making no move to either stop him or calm him. Skinner needed the struggle, and Doggett had to allow him to feel it - it was a vital part of the process. Skinner tugged on the cuffs, panting hard, until finally, exhausted, his movements slowed, and then came to a halt. He glared at Doggett like a feisty colt waiting to be tamed by a patient master.

"That's good," Doggett said softly. He reached out and ran a hand over Skinner's body and the other man struggled again but this time the resistance was brief and token. "That's very good, Corporal. Now give yourself up to me. Just relax. You can't move, you can't do anything except accept what I do to you. Trust me."

He held Skinner's gaze, trying to impart his utter trustworthiness through his eyes and expression. Skinner stopped fighting the cuffs and visibly calmed down, but even so, Doggett spent a few minutes stroking him until he was sure it was okay to proceed to the big man's feet. There was no footboard so tethering his ankles was a more complicated matter. Doggett fastened each ankle cuff to a belt, and then tied the belt around the legs of the bed. Skinner lay there, spread-eagled, looking like a starfish, his meaty cock standing fully aroused in the middle of his body. Doggett grinned.

"This is a good look for you, Corporal," he murmured.

"Yes, sir, thank you, sir," Skinner replied, lost in role. His body was shaking slightly from the effort of not fighting the bondage. Doggett slid onto the bed beside his bound lover, and began playing with Skinner's body again.

"Give it up to me, Corporal," he murmured. "You're mine - I'm going to enjoy this body - and you can't do a thing to stop me. You're out of control, Corporal. You can't make any decisions. You just have to accept what I do to you. How does that feel?"

Skinner's dark eyes met his own, and Doggett realised, with a jolt of surprise, that Skinner's eyes were free of want and care for the first time in all the time he'd known him.

"It feels good, sir," Skinner whispered hazily. "You can do what you like to me, sir. I can't stop you," he said, dreamily.

"Good man, Corporal," Doggett purred - and then he moved into action. He swarmed over Skinner's body with tongue, teeth, hands and fingernails. First he sucked on Skinner's nipples, bit on them until Skinner moaned and thrashed around in his bonds but the big man couldn't get free and soon his moans subsided into sighs of acceptance. Then Doggett scratched his fingernails along Skinner's hard, straining cock. The big man shuddered and tested his bonds again, only to find that they remained firm. Doggett blew on Skinner's balls, and on the sensitive flesh of his inner thighs, then worked his way down to the big man's toes, which he sucked enthusiastically. Skinner writhed and sighed under the many caresses but he could neither resist nor break free.

Finally, judging Skinner had been tormented and brought to the edge of climax often enough for one evening, Doggett reached for condoms and lube again. Skinner gazed at him in a calm haze, clearly not even aware of what was going on, let alone thinking about what would happen next. Doggett straddled his lover's body, and lubed himself, stretching his ass muscles with his fingers. He was going to enjoy this. Finally he slid a condom onto Skinner's straining cock, and then positioned himself over it. He held his own buttocks open and he slid down on Skinner's shaft and the big man let out a hoarse cry of surprise and arousal as Doggett engulfed his whole length in one go. Doggett paused, enjoying the feel of Skinner inside his ass, buried deep within him. He was still in control, and he intended to use that control.

"Don't come, Corporal. I want to ride you for a long time," he purred.

Skinner blinked sweat out of his eyes and nodded. He was utterly helpless, tied down to the bed, and couldn't move as Doggett rose up and down on his hard cock. As soon as Doggett thought Skinner was close to coming he would slow right down, or stop completely.

"You have no control over this, Corporal," he told his lover firmly. "You'll come when I let you...but for now I just want to ride you."

Doggett wasn't sure how many times he slid up and down, impaling himself on that beautiful, large cock - he felt lost in the most delicious dream, his hands resting on Skinner's washboard stomach as he rocked up and down. Skinner gazed up at him, his face contorted with arousal, his dark eyes wide with pleasure and Doggett smiled as his own eyes locked with that dark gaze, and they joined together in a communion that was bringing them closer together than they'd ever been.

Doggett showed Skinner no mercy - he rode him for a long time, not allowing him to come even though Skinner begged for release. Only when he was satisfied that Skinner had surrendered everything to him did he finally allow the big man his climax.

"Any time you want, Corporal," he ordered, riding his cock as fast as he could. Skinner cried out and his entire body seemed to lift off the bed despite his bonds and the weight of Doggett on top of him. Doggett could feel Skinner's climax though the condom, could feel the big man shuddering as he ejaculated for what seemed like forever, before finally slumping back down on the bed, thoroughly exhausted. Doggett sat astride him for a little while longer, then disengaged himself, and removed the condom from his lover's now sated penis.

Skinner seemed completely out of it while Doggett released him from his bonds. The other man was still unmoving when Doggett pulled the comforter over them both, and slid onto the bed beside him. He took Skinner into his arms and kissed him on the lips, demanding entry with his tongue. Skinner surrendered easily, his whole body limp and exhausted in Doggett's arm.

"Tell me who you belong to, Corporal," Doggett asked softly when he drew back.

"You, sir," Skinner replied blindly, his lips nuzzling at Doggett's neck.

"Who is in charge of you, Walter?" Doggett demanded, his arms wrapped around his lover's sweaty body, keeping him close.

"You sir. You are," Skinner whispered.

"Good." Doggett rewarded Skinner with another deep, loving kiss. The other man's face had lost its grey pallor and he looked better than he had for weeks. "We'll get there, Corporal, just as long as you keep remembering that," he said, holding Skinner tight as they both fell fast asleep.

*-*-*-*

Doggett woke the next day feeling energised and looking forward to a few days wrapped up with his lover - only to find that the bed was empty. He came to quickly, and called Skinner's name. There was no reply, so he got up, ran a hand through his tousled hair, and looked in the bathroom. Nobody. It was the work of a few seconds to look around the small cabin but Skinner was well and truly gone.

Doggett sat on the side of the bed, trying to figure out what had happened. He felt a pang of guilt as he recalled the previous night's activities. He'd been trying to bring Skinner down, to breach those walls to the point where Skinner could come to terms with some of the issues that he had been trying to avoid, but looking back Doggett could see that he had seriously misjudged the situation. He had waded in like a bull in a china shop. Skinner was already struggling to come to terms with his homosexuality - to make him also face his submissive side and enjoyment of surrendering control had been taking his lover too far, too fast. Doggett could have kicked himself he was so angry. He remembered taking Skinner from behind, making the other man kneel on all fours - suddenly, instead of being erotic, that seemed humiliating. He didn't blame Skinner for walking out on him. He'd tied Skinner down not as he had done before, to get through to him and stop him being a danger to himself and others, but on a whim, to prove something to both of them without giving Skinner any choice in the matter. Doggett grimaced as he recalled the way he'd made Skinner thank him for taking him up the ass. He had been arrogant and stupid and he had fucked things up between them - maybe for good. He knew that Skinner didn't love him but he'd been hoping that in time love would come. He knew that Skinner had so many problems in his life right now that love wasn't exactly a priority, and then of course there was the spectre of Fox Mulder, casting his shadow over Doggett's life wherever he went.

Doggett took a shower, trying to figure out what to do next. He knew Skinner couldn't have gone far because the jeep was still parked outside; the big man had to be around somewhere. Doggett had just finished in the shower when he heard the front door open and then shut again. He wrapped a towel around his waist and ran out into the hallway, still dripping wet.

"Walter? Christ, where have you been? I was worried," he said more angrily than he'd intended. The big man was standing by the door, fully dressed, his boots muddy.

"Sorry, John. I couldn't sleep. I got up and went for a walk. I needed to clear my head. I watched the sunrise. You're right - it's beautiful out here."

"Are you okay?" Doggett asked, walking swiftly towards his lover, and inspecting him closely. He looked weary but more at peace than he had done for a long time.

"I'm fine. I...needed some time alone. Last night raised a lot of issues for me. I needed to think about what happened," Skinner replied, looking into Doggett's eyes sharply, his expression full of meaning. Doggett felt his heart do a flip. He knew he'd been right in his first estimation of the situation.

"Did you come to any conclusions?" He asked softly. Skinner was silent for a moment, and then nodded gravely, his eyes never leaving Doggett's.

"Yes, John, I did," he said simply.

"Anythin' you want to share?" Doggett asked, his stomach full of jitters. However much Skinner had given himself up to him last night, this Skinner standing here was a man back in control of his life again. Whatever conclusions he'd come to, Doggett didn't think that the big man's future plans would include him.

"Yes. I think so," Skinner said slowly. "But...not here. Why don't you get dressed and we'll go out walking? I'll call for breakfast while you're getting ready."

Doggett nodded, his heart somewhere in the region of his feet. He knew, logically, that whatever conclusions Skinner had come to didn't have to mean the end of their relationship, but Skinner's tone had been so serious, and his expression so grave, that the signs weren't good. Doggett squared his shoulders and pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater.

"What was it you always said?" He berated himself as he dressed. "Never fall in love with straight men or men in the closet. Serves you right for breaking your own cardinal rule, John Doggett. You deserve everything you get."

He ran a comb through his hair and then returned to the living room where Skinner had laid out breakfast. Doggett ate, but he might as well have been chewing on a lump of wood. He wanted to get this over with, whatever Skinner might have decided - he needed to hear it and get through it.

*

After they'd eaten, they walked out into the hills. Doggett followed Skinner - the big man seemed to finally know where he was going after all. The silence between them remained though. Skinner didn't say a word, and the further they walked the more Doggett became convinced that the other man was delaying their chat because he had bad news to deliver. Doggett's natural impatience came to the fore and he was almost on the verge of opening his mouth and demanding to know what the hell was going on - but he stopped himself. Skinner didn't need to be harangued right now. He had said he wanted to share so presumably he would - in his own time.

"The view from up there is amazing," Skinner said, pointing to a steep hill. Doggett eyed it cautiously.

"You climbed up here in the dark last night?" he asked.

"Yes." Skinner nodded. "I watched the sunrise from the summit...and suddenly everything clicked into place."

"Let's go then." Doggett nodded gruffly.

Overhead, storm clouds were gathering ominously, and the sky was getting darker, not lighter as the morning wore on. Skinner set off towards the hill, and Doggett trailed along behind. They passed one of the small walkers' huts at the bottom and the big man pointed to it.

"I nearly ran into that in the dark. Scared the shit out of me."

Doggett grunted in reply. Usually he loved walking out here, but the dark clouds overhead just added to his feeling of impending gloom. The mountain air was fresh and the wind was sharp. Skinner's long legs ate up the ground and Doggett was grateful momentarily for a companion who liked walking as much as he did, remembering Tony's heavy sighs whenever he had suggested going for a hike. That only served to remind him of what he was sure he was imminently about to face - that Skinner was about to end their relationship. They reached the top, and stood there, panting, the wind whipping around their faces.

"Beautiful," Skinner called over the sound of the wind, gazing out at the surrounding countryside. Doggett had to admit that it was - they could see for miles, and the colours of the darkening sky against the green grass below were particularly vivid.

"Walter," he said, unable to stay silent any more. "Please - I need to know what's going on...and to apologise." Skinner turned his head to look at him, his eyes dark behind the wirerims. "Last night...I went too far. I'm sorry if I freaked you out. I guess I was treating you like you're Tony, and I forgot how little experience you have with this kind of thing. I'm sorry," he said again, but the wind whipped the words out of his mouth.

"What?" He could see Skinner's mouth make the word, but he couldn't hear it. The wind had now reached a wild crescendo and big spots of rain were sliding down the front of Skinner's wirerims.

"Shit - it's going to pour. We'd better run!" Doggett cried above the sound of the rain. He wasn't sure Skinner had heard him, but his action spoke for itself as he started to run back towards the hut at the bottom of the hill. The rain started to fall in earnest before they were even half way down. Huge, fat droplets fell on his head, and before long he was soaked to the skin. He burst through the door of the hut and then turned to find Skinner hard on his heels. He slammed the door behind the big man and then peered at him in the gloomy interior.

"Christ - you're soakin'!" He exclaimed.

"So are you," Skinner pointed out. He was looking at Doggett and grinning strangely, his teeth gleaming very white in the dingy hut.

"What?" Doggett asked, running a hand across his forehead and sweeping off a fistful of water that was drizzling out of his soaked hair.

"You. You look good wet," Skinner said, and then, without warning, he grabbed Doggett's wet jacket, pulled the other man close, and kissed him hard. Doggett's initial surprise gave way to a warm feeling of the most intense relief, and he surrendered to the kiss and returned it in full measure.

"That answers one question at least," he murmured when Skinner finally released him.

"I like your hair spiky this way," Skinner grinned, running his hand through Doggett's wet locks. He kissed Doggett again, his hands fumbling at the agent's wet clothing. "Need to get you out of these," Skinner growled, his voice husky with need. Doggett almost lost his balance as Skinner pushed him back towards the wall, his hands shoving Doggett's pants and briefs down to his knees.

"You want to try it against the wall?" Doggett allowed Skinner to hold him against the wall. Skinner felt large and damp, fully clothed against Doggett's half-naked body, his eyes glowing with need.

"I want to be in you...damn...we don't have anything to use," Skinner said, his breath warm on Doggett's wet skin, his hands cupping Doggett's exposed buttocks.

"Fuck it...I want you in me too," Doggett replied. "Use spit - it won't be the first time I've tried that. Forget the rubber. I'm clean and I'm sure as hell you are too. Think you can do it here - at this angle?"

"Think you can?" Skinner challenged.

Doggett grinned widely, all his earlier fears melting away at Skinner's uncharacteristic rashness.

"If you can, I can," he replied, grabbing hold of Skinner's shoulders and hoisting himself onto the other man's hips, his back resting against the wall. Skinner balanced him there, and then opened his own pants, and Doggett felt his hard cock, warm and dry, bumping against his buttocks. Skinner spat on his fingers and drove them into his lover's anus and Doggett wriggled, wanting - needing - Skinner inside him.

"Just get on with it Corporal," he hissed.

"Wait for it, Sergeant," Skinner replied, an amused light in his eyes. He hoisted Doggett's legs further around his own hips, and then parted the other man's buttocks with his hands. A few seconds later Doggett felt Skinner's cock nudge his entrance. It took them a few seconds of manoeuvring to get themselves aligned, then Skinner thrust up and Doggett took him deep into his ass in one go. Doggett held on for dear life as Skinner pounded him against the wall. It felt good - raw and painful but so good too. Skinner's clothing was wet against his body, and they were both cold but the impromptu sex session was fast and frenzied. Doggett's own cock was nestled between them, being stimulated by the rough dampness of Skinner's clothing with every forward thrust. Neither of them could have maintained that position for long and soon Skinner was coming and Doggett found himself climaxing at almost the same time. They stood there recovering, Doggett's legs slung around Skinner's hips, his back pressed against the wall, the big man's cock softening inside his ass, both of them panting.

"Ouch," Doggett commented, hanging on to Skinner's broad shoulders.

"Shouldn't have done it without lube," Skinner grunted, looking at Doggett anxiously.

"It's not that. My leg's gone to sleep," Doggett replied with a grin. Skinner grinned back.

"My back hurts," he commented.

"Energetic sex in unusual positions during thunderstorms is probably an activity best saved for the young," Doggett observed.

"Yeah. That was wet. And sore." Skinner manoeuvred Doggett off his cock and helped him stand back on the floor again.

"Yeah. And...sticky." Doggett commented, feeling Skinner's come trickling out of his ass and his own come sliding down his jacket, mingling with the rainwater in a soggy mess. He glanced up at Skinner and they both stared at each other for a moment before bursting out laughing.

"Oh fuck that was good," Doggett moaned, resting his head on Skinner's shoulder and wrapping his arms around the big man's large body.

"It was so fucking good!" Skinner gasped, his chest vibrating as he laughed. "You're cold though," he commented, his hands coming to rest, as they always did, on Doggett's naked ass.

"You too," Doggett replied.

"There's a fireplace over there," Skinner said, drawing away and going over to the chimney. "Christ knows why but there is."

"It's a walkers' hut in case anyone gets lost out here - or stuck in a thunderstorm," Doggett informed him pulling up his clothing. "Silvermist keeps them stocked." He opened a cupboard and found basic survival supplies - a blanket, and food rations, some kindling for the fireplace, and matches. They threw some kindling into the fireplace and lit it, and the hut soon began to warm up. Then they stripped off their wet clothing and huddled under a blanket together.

"Are you ready to talk yet?" Doggett asked. "When you brought me out here I figured you were really pissed off about last night and had decided to finish it between us. Maybe go to Mulder and...I dunno what, or maybe just resign yourself to living without him, maybe try to find yourself a girlfriend and slot back into the mainstream again - I don't know. I'm kind of assuming that isn't what was goin' on in your head?" He squinted at Skinner in the dark hut. It was lit only by the glow of the brazier and he could just make out the other man's white teeth and the shape of his face.

"No, it isn't," Skinner said softly. "I had no idea you were thinking that, John, or I'd have said something before. I was just enjoying the walk, enjoying knowing you were beside me and we were comfortable enough with each other not to talk. You always seem to have everything figured out and you're so self-assured - I didn't guess that was what you were thinking."

"Well, I'm only human," Doggett grimaced. "And last night was pretty intense. I didn't know if you were angry with me for showing you how much you enjoyed it...because it seemed to me that you did enjoy it, Walter." He wrapped the blanket more tightly around them both, slid his hand gently over Walter's body and rested it on his lover's thigh.

"Yes I did - but you're right, it did freak me out a little. When I woke up, I was stuck in the middle of those questions that, as you made no bones about pointing out, I'd been doing my best to avoid."

Doggett winced. "Yeah. I'm sorry, Walter. I know I pushed you but I could see you sinking with this one and not coming back up again."

"I was headed that way," Skinner admitted. "Last night, when I was out walking, I'll admit I was scared by how good what we did yesterday evening felt. Today...just now, I think I needed to remind myself that I can still take charge again when I need to."

Doggett grinned. "Walter, that really ain't an issue," he said. "Anyone who's seen you in the office can testify to that!"

"Maybe it's not an issue for you but you're so much more sure of yourself with all this than I am. You've had a lot longer to get used to it," Skinner murmured. "The power games I mean, not the sex, which we've been doing pretty constantly for the past few months anyway! But I never knew the power games, the giving up control, letting you take charge of me, even letting you hurt me a bit - I didn't know that could turn me on so much. It blew me away. At first I thought it was just one more thing to worry about, but then, as the sun came up this morning, everything kind of slotted into place." He glanced at Doggett with a wry smile, then leaned closer and kissed him. "Last night was almost like a metaphor for my life generally I suppose," he continued. "I thought - why am I questioning this relationship or my sexuality when I'm having such a good time, and when it feels so right? When you ordered me around, pinched me, fucked me like that with me on all fours, tied me up - I fought you each time but when I gave in to it - it blew me away how fantastic it made me feel. I figured this whole relationship is the same. When I fight it I'm unhappy, but when I give in and go with it - I have the time of my life. So why the hell am I fighting it?"

"Good question, Walter - I'm glad you found the answer," Doggett said, stroking Skinner's thigh with his thumb. "But that's just one part of what was botherin' you. We never talked again about what I said about Mulder but I know you've been thinking about it. Did you come to any conclusions about that?" He scanned Skinner's face anxiously for an answer to that question - the question that had been worrying him most these past few weeks.

"Yes, I did," Skinner said slowly. "Mulder..." He paused, his jaw clenching, then bowed his head for a second before looking up again and continuing. "You were right in a way, John, but not completely. Yes, I did love Mulder - still do, as you said, but maybe not in the way you think. I fell in love with his energy, his passion, and his commitment to his work. I used to feel that way once, before 'Nam. I was passionate about joining up; like I told you, I wasn't drafted - I enlisted. I did that because I believed in serving my country but somewhere along the way I lost all my beliefs out there in the jungle, along with my dead comrades. After 'Nam everything was about duty and responsibility - my passion for a cause had gone. Don't get me wrong - I do feel passionate about justice and about my work, but when Mulder came breezing into my life he reminded me what it's like to have a cause - something to believe in. I admired his brain - he's clever and intuitive. You've seen him in action; you know those mental leaps he takes. I fell in love with the agent - the agent I wished I could be, the agent I might have been if I hadn't gone to Vietnam."

"I didn't know you felt like that," Doggett commented, never ceasing the gentle stroking of his thumb on Skinner's thigh.

"I'm not sure I knew it either," Skinner admitted with a wry smile. "Not until you slapped me around the face with my feelings for Mulder and forced me to see what had been going on right in front of me. I'm not denying there was a sexual attraction between me and Mulder but...I was never really Mulder's friend outside of work - we never ate together, saw each other socially, or even talked much as friends, not like you and I did even before we became lovers."

Doggett felt a wave of total relief wash over him - he hadn't realised just how much this issue had been bothering him. He had been living in Mulder's shadow in so many different ways that he'd become accustomed to it but that didn't mean he liked it. He couldn't stop himself leaning forward and claiming a deep kiss from his lover's willing lips. When he drew back, he found himself laughing from the sheer relaxation of tension.

"What?" Skinner gazed at him. "Something I said?" He asked.

"Nope, just me thinking what an idiot I've been. When I woke up this morning and you were gone I thought I'd pushed you too far last night and you'd taken off. Boy, was I worried. I should spank you for that, Corporal." He felt Skinner's cock rise up slightly and nudge his hand as he said that. "Corporal?" he questioned.

Skinner made a face halfway between a smile and a grimace, his white teeth gleaming in the dimly lit hut. "Sergeant, you can spank me any time you like," he said, bowing his head slightly with embarrassment.

Doggett grinned broadly. "I will then," he said. "When we get back to the cabin. I promised you an erotic spanking once before, and an hour or two playin' with this ass of yours could never be called time wasted."

Doggett rolled Skinner down on the wooden floor beneath him, and held his lover there while he kissed him again, their bodies warm where they were pressed naked together. Doggett felt horny just from being addressed as 'Sergeant' in Skinner's deep baritone. He liked the nickname and the power play inherent in their different ranks, and he loved that Skinner liked it too.

*

They dozed for a while until the rain finally stopped beating on the roof of the hut, and then they got up, got dressed, and stowed the supplies back in the cupboard. It was wet underfoot outside and the storm clouds still glowered overhead, but they no longer seemed to be harbingers of doom and Doggett felt light-headed with relief and happiness as they walked back to the cabin together.

Once inside they stripped off their damp clothes, got into robes and ordered some food. After they'd eaten they retired to the Jacuzzi. Doggett pulled Skinner between his legs. His lover came easily, and rested his naked scalp on Doggett's chest. Skinner was tired after his nocturnal ramblings and he slept for half an hour while Doggett just held him, enjoying the feel of the warm water and the weight of his lover's body pressed against him. Skinner's skin felt good under his fingers and Doggett was unable to resist stealing several little kisses from Skinner's scalp. When his lover woke they were both relaxed and Doggett thought it was time to remind Skinner of his promise back in the hut.

"Okay, Corporal," he said, pushing his lover away and rising from the tub. "It's time to deliver that spanking."

Skinner got up, his cock already starting to show some interest in the idea even as his brain kicked in with doubts.

"Sergeant, I'm not so sure about this now," he began. Doggett held out a hand and dragged him from the Jacuzzi.

"Corporal, who's in charge?" He asked patiently.

"You, sir," Skinner said, slipping immediately into role.

"That's right. So get your ass into the bedroom." Doggett put an arm around Skinner's shoulder and escorted his hesitant lover into the other room. He knew he could make this good for Skinner, and, judging by the other man's reactions the previous night, he was fairly sure that Skinner was going to enjoy this once he overcame his usual initial struggle with his own submission.

Doggett sat himself down on the bed, retrieved lube and condoms from the nightstand, and arranged some pillows on his lap.

"Over my knee, Corporal," he ordered. Skinner raised an eyebrow, clearly baulking at the idea of assuming such a position. "Now," Doggett commanded, reaching out to grab Skinner's wrist and pull him close. The other man looked as if he was finding the whole thing absurd, to say nothing of embarrassing but he made no demur as Doggett pulled him down onto the pillows. Doggett paused once Skinner was in place, and contemplated the feast in front of him. He had always found Skinner's ass to be an object worthy of worship - it was very round, the two buttocks curving deliciously where they met the thigh, and the skin was stretched taut over the muscle beneath. Doggett spent several long minutes just caressing the beautiful bottom proffered so sumptuously to him. Skinner was now utterly relaxed, so Doggett began to tap the other man's butt gently. He went slowly, soothing and tapping and soothing again, and gradually the flesh beneath his fingertips began to heat up and Skinner began to move rhythmically in time to the slaps. Doggett increased both the tempo and the strength of the slaps now, so that his hand delivered a real sting, and Skinner began to moan as he wriggled under Doggett's hand. Sometimes he tried to move his buttocks out of the way but Doggett held him firmly and every aimed slap hit its target. Skinner's bottom was starting to glow a deep rosy pink colour in hue, and Doggett felt his own cock harden in response. One thing he had always loved when he was with Tony was burying himself up to the hilt in a warm, glowing backside.

"How do you feel, Corporal?" He asked, delivering a stinging slap and then smoothing away the skin afterwards for several seconds before delivering another stinging slap to the opposite butt cheek.

"Good, Sergeant," Skinner replied, his voice muffled by the pillows. His body writhed and arched under Doggett's insistent caresses, and Doggett could see how hard his cock had become every time he rose up to meet his hand.

"You look good, Corporal," he murmured. "You ass looks good this colour. I think I'll have to spank it more often."

Skinner didn't make a coherent reply but somehow Doggett didn't think he was objecting. He stepped up the spanking, wondering how much Skinner could take and the man on his lap began to grunt with each slap that hit home. Doggett knew he was taking Skinner closer to that line that separated pain from pleasure so he slowed down again. There would be plenty of time to explore Skinner's limits in the weeks and months ahead. For now, he just wanted to show his lover the many ways in which they could have a good time together. He was so turned on by the sight of Skinner's long limbs kicking frantically, the feel of his warm butt, and the way he was offering himself up so sweetly in his submission that he knew he had to bring the spanking to an end. He slowed down until all he was doing was stroking, and then he reached for the lube he had placed on the nightstand.

"This will be cold, Corporal," he warned, spreading the lube liberally on his fingers. Skinner nodded and clutched the bed sheets in his fingers. Doggett parted the rosily glowing buttocks and slipped his finger inside. He loved the juxtaposition of the cool lube on his finger and the warmth emanating from Skinner's bottom. He wiggled his finger around and then slid it in and out in a rhythmic movement. He went slowly, finger fucking Skinner for several long minutes with two and then three fingers, until he was so aroused by the sight of that warm, red bottom rising up and down to meet his fingers that he couldn't restrain himself any more. He pushed Skinner off his lap onto the bed, still with a pillow underneath him, slid a condom into place on his own erect cock, and then took those inviting buttocks in both hands, parted them, and pushed his penis in right up to the hilt in one smooth motion. Skinner gasped and his hands clutched the sheets again. Doggett grinned, and began to thrust hard and fast, unable to go slowly, needing his release. He was lost in the sheer sensory delight of the warm buttocks beneath his hands, the tight muscle enveloping his cock, the scent of his lover's arousal and sweat, the sound of Skinner's moans as he was mounted, and the sight of his lover's broad bare back beneath him. Doggett came vigorously, and then knelt where he was for a moment, blinking sweat out of his eyes. "You still with me, Corporal?" He murmured.

"Yeah..." The voice was hazy.

"Good." Doggett rolled Skinner over and engulfed his cock in his mouth, sucking hard. Skinner cried out and bucked up into him once, twice, and then came. Doggett swallowed every single drop, enjoying the sensation of his lover's come sliding down his throat. When he was done, he took Skinner in his arms and they both lay looking up at the ceiling.

"So...how did you like your first spanking, Corporal?" Doggett grinned, squeezing his lover.

"As if you need to ask, Sergeant," Skinner replied, grinning back. "I wish I knew why it turns me on so much letting you order me around left, right and centre but being over your knee, knowing you were in charge and I was helpless and at your mercy...it just did it for me."

"Don't question it, Corporal, just enjoy it," Doggett murmured, depositing a fond kiss on his lover's nose. "You know what?" He pondered, gazing over Skinner's shoulder at his rosily glowing backside. "I think we finally have something to toast with that champagne, Corporal." Skinner looked puzzled and raised a questioning eyebrow. "Your red ass!" Doggett announced, grinning. "Hang on, Corporal, I'm going to get us some champagne!"

He ran to the kitchen, returned with a bottle of chilled champagne, opened it, and then ordered Skinner onto his front again. The other man did as he was told, grinning as he figured out what Doggett intended to do. The agent sat astride his lover, and poured a small amount of the fizzy liquid onto Skinner's glowing bottom. The big man arched up, cursing, as the coldness assaulted his warm backside.

"Hold still, I want to enjoy this toast!" Doggett told his lover. He bent his head and licked the cold champagne from Skinner's hot bottom, loving the juxtaposition of the two temperatures, and the feel of liquid on skin under his tongue. Skinner wriggled, a sound suspiciously close to a giggle escaping from his lips and Doggett laughed out loud and poured more champagne onto that glorious butt. "Oh yeah," he murmured as he lapped at Skinner's ass. "This ass is definitely somethin' worth toasting - first with my hand then with the champagne!" Skinner groaned at the appalling pun, and then they both collapsed into a fit of laughter.

*

They spent the next few days exploring the hills, eating, and making love so many times in so many ways that Doggett lost count. Sometimes they'd talk about the news or some other easy subject, and sometimes they'd talk about Luke, or Sharon, or Mulder. Sometimes they would be completely silent, and Doggett would hold Skinner in his arms and doze with him in front of the open fire. Their time at Silvermist passed all too quickly, but by the end of it Doggett was gratified to see that Skinner's face had lost its haggard, grey cast, and his eyes were brighter and much more alive. It pleased him more than he could say and sometimes he would steal glances at his lover just to witness the change in him, delighted by his new vitality. Although he knew they hadn't figured everything out, and he was sure Skinner hadn't yet fallen in love with him - and maybe never would - he did know that they had come to an understanding and that nothing would ever be the same again as a result. Doggett had given Skinner the love, care and healing that the big man so desperately needed. The agent knew it wouldn't be long before they were both sucked back into battle again, but at least his lover had managed to recharge his batteries, and build himself back up for the next round of fighting. He had figured out some of his problems, and even if he couldn't solve them all, he had come to some kind of acceptance and understanding of them, and laid them as much to rest as he would ever be able to. More than anything else, Doggett knew that whatever happened in the future, they would always have these perfect few days to remember.

*-*-*-*

As it turned out, they only had a few weeks of normality upon their return to DC, before they were thrown back into the fray once more. Doggett was working at his desk, making some calls about a case he was working on, when his cellphone rang. He glanced at it, saw the caller ID, realised it was Skinner, and frowned. His lover rarely called him on his cell when they were both at work - they usually saved their cellphones for private conversations and they were both too professional to have many of those at work. Doggett swiftly finished the other call he was on and answered the cell.

"Hi, Walter." He could hear Skinner breathing heavily down the phone. "Walter - you okay?" He got to his feet. "Where are you?"

"I'm fine, John. I'm at Bethesda. They've...they've had an incident. A security breach."

"What?" Doggett grabbed his jacket and shouldered himself into it as he ran for the elevator, his cell phone still nestled against his ear. "Where are you?"

"I'm at the hospital now."

"Why didn't you call me?" Doggett demanded, getting into the elevator.

"I tried - your phone was busy and I was at the DOD in a meeting when I found out so I couldn't just come and tell you. I drove straight here, John. I couldn't wait. I had to find out...John, they're gone."

"What are? Walter?" Doggett broke into a run as he exited the elevator and headed towards his car.

"My medical records..." Skinner's voice broke up.

"Walter - I'm on my way." Doggett turned off the phone, threw himself into his car, and screeched out of the parking garage.

*

Skinner was sitting in a room in the hospital, gazing sightlessly at the floor, his collar loosened at the throat, his tie askew. Doggett's heart did a flip - his lover never looked anything other than immaculate at work, and seeing him like this was heartbreaking. Further down the corridor there was an open door, and various Naval Investigative Service personnel were walking in and out of it, talking and making notes. Skinner seemed remote, disconnected from the investigation that centred around him, lost in his own thoughts.

"Walter," Doggett strode into the room, crouched down in front of his lover, and touched the other man's knee. Skinner looked up. His eyes were full of anger and despair. "Tell me exactly what's goin' on," Doggett said.

"I got a phone call a couple of hours ago from the hospital. They called the NIS of course but they let me know because...because I'm the only person affected and because of my position in the Bureau. There's been some kind of security breach - not a break in, but somehow, and nobody knows how, my medical records were stolen yesterday."

"Your medical records...that's all?" Doggett felt as if he'd been kicked in the stomach so he had an idea how bad Skinner must be feeling.

"Yes."

"All the results of those two weeks of tests?" Doggett grimaced. Bad enough that someone had access to that information, but its loss to Skinner was incalculable. He knew that the other man had been secretly hoping that a cure would one day materialise but with the notes missing those two weeks of tests and the ordeal his lover had gone through now seemed like a complete waste of time - and worse, it seemed as if they might help furnish his enemies with new ammunition to use against him.

"Yes. The whole file - and not only that, all the biopsies and blood samples and everything else they were keeping in the freezer," Skinner added.

"Okay. Who's in charge of the investigation?" Doggett got up and went to the door.

"I already spoke to them - they're prepared to let the FBI be involved in the investigation in a minor way as a professional courtesy but beyond that..." Skinner shrugged. "You know how territorial these NIS guys are," Skinner explained. Doggett nodded, and they both stepped out into the corridor and along to the room that had been broken into.

The NIS allowed Doggett and Skinner to examine the crime scene, and talk to security staff and medical personnel but by the end of the day Doggett had a feeling that this was all going to turn into one big dead end. Nobody had seen anything, there were no fingerprints, nothing had been picked up on camera and the security staff were as puzzled as everyone else. There was absolutely nothing to go on, and he could feel Skinner's tension rising as the bad news kept getting worse. They went back to Skinner's apartment late that evening with a heaviness hanging over them that was almost palpable. Skinner didn't speak a word as he slammed the door to the apartment shut behind him, and then strode over to his liquor cabinet. He poured himself a glass of whisky and downed it in one go, without even sparing Doggett a glance. Doggett didn't blame him and he didn't say anything to stop him. When he'd finished his drink, Skinner growled something about taking a shower and then disappeared up the stairs.

Doggett sat on the couch staring moodily into space for a long time. He knew how much this was hurting Skinner but he didn't know how to help the other man. All his investigative skills seemed to count for nothing - there were no leads so what the hell was he supposed to do next? He felt his own frustration rising in the pit of his stomach. This was just what had happened with Luke. Months of searching had proved completely useless and he'd had to accept failure and defeat in the end - galling and heartbreaking though that had been. He couldn't bear the thought of it happening a second time; there had to be something he could do. An idea struck Doggett. He dismissed it at first, but his reasons for doing so sat uncomfortably with him. Surely he was a big enough man to admit that he was at a loss - but that somebody else might be able to help them out? Wasn't asking for help one of the things he'd been insisting Skinner do since they started their relationship? Was he too arrogant to take his own advice? When Skinner returned to the living room a few minutes later, Doggett handed him his cell phone.

"Walter, I want you to make a call," he said.

Skinner took the phone and raised an eyebrow. "Anybody in particular? Or did you just figure out the phone number of those bastards who stole my medical records?"

"No, but I think I know somebody who might be able to help us track them down. Walter, I want you to call Mulder."

Skinner's eyes clouded over behind the wirerims, and he didn't take the cell phone Doggett was handing him. "I don't want to do that, John," he murmured.

"Why not? Mulder knows these people as much as anyone. He's also been out on his own for months, digging around. He might know something we don't. He's worth trying," Doggett insisted.

"I don't want to drag Mulder into this," Skinner said with a shrug.

"Why not? He's happy enough to drag you into his problems when he needs you. Christ, Walter, what is it with you and all this damn secrecy? I don't understand why the hell you didn't tell Mulder the moment you found out Krycek was going to blackmail you with the nanocytes in the first place."

"I couldn't!" Skinner snapped. "It would have endangered him - and Scully - and anyone else who knows. Christ, I wouldn't have told you if you hadn't tracked me down to the hospital. This is my problem, John, and I take care of my own problems."

"And sometimes you can't and that's when you ask your friends for help," Doggett snapped back. "We don't mind being endangered - god knows we've called on you for help often enough and you've always been there for us. For me, for Scully, for Mulder - for all of us. How dare you deny us the opportunity to help you in return?"

Skinner's jaw slid sideways at that, his eyes registering surprise. "I've never exactly viewed the situation that way before," he murmured.

"I know, but it's time you did. I don't know whether Mulder will be either willing or able to help - it's a risk, sure, but you won't know unless you ask him."

Doggett handed Skinner the phone again, and this time the big man took it. He looked at Doggett for reassurance, and the other man nodded, encouraging him to continue. Skinner considered it for a moment, and then punched a number into his cell phone.

Doggett watched as Skinner left a message with Scully. Then they both sat and waited. A few minutes later, the cell phone rang. Skinner answered it, then looked at Doggett and nodded - it was clear that he was talking to Mulder. They talked for a few minutes while Skinner outlined the situation and then the call ended.

"What did he say?" Doggett asked.

Skinner sat down heavily on the couch. "He's going to do some digging. He'll be in touch."

"Well that's somethin'." Doggett put an arm around his lover's shoulders and squeezed encouragingly. "Walter, I know that wasn't easy for you but you have to give your friends a chance to show how much they care about you sometimes."

Skinner gave a faded, wry smile, and Doggett crossed his fingers behind his back. He just hoped that Mulder came through for them, hoped that the ex-agent really did care about Skinner, and most of all he hoped that Mulder had access to some information that they did not. Skinner's future depended on it.

*

They fell asleep on the couch and were woken by a knock on the door a couple of hours later. Skinner opened it and a few seconds later he ushered Mulder into the living room. Mulder looked a lot better than the last time Doggett had seen him. His hair, while still very short, had grown back a little and now stood in spiky points on his head and he had shaved off the ridiculous moustache. He looked very fit and well and Doggett fought off a pang of jealousy as Mulder gripped Skinner's hand briefly and the two men shared a look that spoke of a long history and shared experiences. There was no doubt that Mulder cared about Skinner's welfare and was concerned about his current predicament. Mulder's hazel eyes took in everything - raking over Skinner's face, observing the other man's pale skin and tense body language.

"D'you have any information for us, Mulder?" Doggett asked, breaking into the mood between the two men.

Mulder nodded. "I have more than that," he said quickly. "I have an address - but we don't have much time. I don't think they'll be there for long."

"Who's they? Who are the people who did this?" Skinner demanded.

Doggett got out his gun and began checking it even as he started striding towards the door.

"I'm not entirely sure," Mulder grimaced, getting to the door first and opening it. "I don't even know whether the information I have is worth anything. It's information obtained from down the barrel of a gun so it could be a trap or a red herring, but it's all I could find."

Doggett glanced at Mulder searchingly - he had never considered Mulder to be the kind of man who could do the really heavy stuff; getting information from someone by pointing a gun at his head didn't seem to be Mulder's style - but Doggett guessed that his months outside the FBI had forced him to adopt new methods.

"Where are we going?" Skinner asked, as they travelled down to the parking garage in the elevator.

"A house." Mulder rummaged in his pocket for a piece of paper and handed it to Skinner. "That's the address - but Skinner." He grabbed Skinner's arm as Skinner charged out of the elevator. "Be very careful," Mulder warned. "These people aren't amateurs and they aren't scared of much. Shouting 'FBI' and waving a badge around is more likely to make them laugh than anything else."

Skinner grunted. He shook off Mulder's arm and jogged towards his car like a very angry rhino intent on tracking down whoever had wounded it. Mulder shot a pleading glance at Doggett. Doggett nodded, understanding the unspoken message. He caught up with Skinner by the car, grabbed the other man's arm, swung him around, and thumped him bodily against the car.

"Mulder's right. We take this slow," Doggett said firmly. Skinner's eyes flashed angrily behind his wirerims.

"These people are after me, John. They've stolen a piece of my life and I want it back. Not only that but they might be able to lead me to the bastards who did this to me in the first place." Hope flared in Skinner's eyes and Doggett had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Skinner was pinning too much on this and he wasn't sure the other man would be able to handle yet another disappointment.

"Walter, I know all that, but if you go blundering in there and get yourself killed then it won't matter whether there's a cure for the nanocytes or not, will it?" He asked. Mulder had reached the car and Doggett was aware of the ex-agent watching their exchange with curious eyes. "Walter - I mean it. Just slow down and start thinking," Doggett insisted, pushing Skinner's shoulders back against the car with a thud to emphasise his point. Skinner hung there for a moment, then all the air seemed to deflate out of him, and he nodded.

"All right, John," he ground out in terse tones.

"Good man." Doggett moved his hand and cradled the back of Skinner's head affectionately. "We'll be with you," he glanced at Mulder for confirmation, unsure whether the other man planned on accompanying them, but Mulder nodded quickly. "We're three trained and experienced FBI agents so we stand a good chance against these people, whoever they are, as long as we keep our heads. Huh, Corporal?" Skinner gave a faded smile and only when Doggett was sure the message had sunk in did he release his lover.

*

They got in the car and Mulder drove them to the address he had been given. Skinner was silent throughout the journey - Doggett glanced at him occasionally but the big man seemed lost in thought. They pulled up outside the house and looked at it for a few seconds, trying to evaluate the danger. It looked like a fairly ordinary house and it was in complete darkness.

"Front door's not very secure - looks like just the one lock," Mulder said.

"There's probably a back entrance as well," Doggett pointed out. "One of us could cover the back while the other two kick their way in through the front."

"No," Skinner interrupted firmly. "Christ, I'm still an FBI agent and I'll be damned if I just kick down a door without knocking on it first."

"Fair point," Doggett acceded.

Mulder gave a slight smile at Skinner's insistence on playing by the rules, and nodded. They got out of the car, and all three men approached the front door. Skinner knocked, and they waited - but there was no sound from inside the house. Skinner knocked again but there was only silence in response.

"I don't think we have a choice now," Mulder said. "We have to go in, Walter."

"I agree," Skinner nodded.

"I'll go around the back..." Mulder began but Skinner interrupted him.

"No," he said firmly. "Look, we don't have a warrant to enter this house and at this point this stops being a legitimate FBI operation. It's also dangerous. I don't mind taking that risk myself, but I don't want either of you two taking it. Go back to the car and wait. I'll keep in contact with you by cellphone."

"Walter this is crazy," Doggett said forcefully.

"Agent Doggett - this is my mission. I'm in charge here. Do either of you disagree with that?" Skinner growled. Doggett exchanged a glance with Mulder who shrugged and shook his head.

"No, sir," Doggett sighed. "But it's crazy to go in there alone, without backup."

"I'll have backup - like I said, I'll talk to you on the cellphone while I go around the house - but I don't want either of you to risk your lives in what Mulder has already pointed out could be a trap. This is a risk I'd prefer to take alone."

Doggett opened his mouth to protest again but something about the look in his lover's eyes stopped him.

"I'm not arguing this, John," Skinner told him in a low tone. Doggett knew that when Skinner got this forceful there was no moving him. The other man had an obstinate streak a mile long and twice as deep.

"All right. But we're coming in at the first sign of trouble damnit," he growled.

*

Doggett returned to the car with Mulder, and they sat, watching, as Skinner drew his gun. The big man attached the hands free cord to his cell phone, pressed the other end in his ear, dialled, then put the phone back in his pocket. A few seconds later Doggett's car phone beeped. He put it on hands free so that they could both listen to it, and then watched as Skinner stepped back, and crashed his foot into the doorframe. The lock burst on the first kick, and Skinner glanced back at the car and waved his hand before stepping cautiously into the dark house. Doggett sat as still as a rock in the car, all his muscles tense, listening to Skinner's breathing through the cell phone connection as the other man walked slowly around the house. Mulder felt the tension differently, and fidgeted incessantly until Doggett had to fight off an urge to slap the ex-agent and yell at him to be still.

"I'm in a hallway, going towards the kitchen. Nothing in here. Looks very ordinary. I hope you got the right place, Mulder," Skinner was saying. Doggett felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He tightened his grip on his gun, one hand on the car door, ready to run in there at the first sign of trouble. Silence, save for Skinner's heavy breathing, and then a thud.

"What was that? Walter?" Doggett cried out.

"It's okay," Skinner replied. "I just had kicked a door open. Nothing in here. Okay...I've done the downstairs. I'm going up now."

Doggett glanced across at the house, hating the inactivity, wanting desperately to be in there with his lover.

"Just passed the bathroom - nobody in there," Skinner said, his footsteps reverberating on what sounded like bare, wooden boards. Mulder let out a long exhalation of breath. He glanced up at the house speculatively for a moment, and then frowned.

"What?" Doggett asked.

"Something about the sound..."

They both listened to the sound of Skinner walking on the floorboards for a moment and then Mulder suddenly sprang into action.

"Skinner - get yourself out of there, now, there's someone in there with you!" He yelled.

Doggett was already out of the car and running towards the house before Mulder even finished the sentence. He ran up the stairs two at a time, and slid to a halt at the top. The sounds of struggle drew him to one of the rooms, and he burst through the door to find Skinner lying on the floor on his back, an ugly gash across his forehead, fighting with a masked man who was sitting on top of him. The man had a gun and Skinner was desperately trying to keep it aimed away from his own body. Doggett let out a low roar of rage - something exploded inside him at seeing his lover in such danger and he flung himself across the room, picked up the man on top of Skinner, and slung him bodily against the wall. The gun fell to the floor and Doggett kicked it towards Skinner before pursuing the masked man who was running towards the door...and straight into Mulder, who threw him back at Doggett. Doggett grabbed the man's sweater and punched him over and over again, his mind filled with an almost murderous rage.

"Doggett! Doggett! JOHN!" Dimly Doggett heard Mulder's voice over the buzzing in his ears and stopped punching. The man fell to the floor, retching as he clutched his stomach where Doggett had pounded into him with his fist.

"Walter? You okay?" Doggett turned anxiously back to his lover who was sitting on the floor, wiping blood from his forehead.

"I'm fine. I found the samples." Skinner pointed at a desk in front of the window, and Doggett saw a case containing several vials of blood. "The medical notes have to be around here somewhere," Skinner said as Doggett hauled him to his feet.

"We'll find them," Mulder said. "I'll look in the next room. Doggett - make sure this guy doesn't go anywhere." Mulder waved his gun at the masked man panting on the floor.

Doggett nodded grimly. He went over to their attacker, pulled him to his feet, and pushed him against the wall.

"Just stay there," he growled, training his gun on the man. He glanced over at Skinner who was busy opening all the desk drawers, searching for the notes. It all happened so quickly that Doggett didn't have time to think. He saw something flash across the street through the window, and instinct kicked in.

"GET DOWN, WALTER!" He screamed as he abandoned his captive and threw himself over to where Skinner was standing, exposed, in front of the window. He flung himself on his lover and threw him to the floor at the same time as the window exploded and he felt a great tearing pain in his shoulder. He landed on top of Skinner and was momentarily winded and then the pain kicked in in earnest and he screamed as the momentum of his fall sent him rolling onto the wooden floor where he landed on his wounded shoulder. He must have blacked out for a moment because the next thing he knew he was staring up at into a pair of concerned dark eyes, and Skinner was slapping his face.

"John - John, stay with me," Skinner said.

Doggett blinked and grimaced as the pain swept over him again in a dizzying wave.

"S'alright..." he muttered but he could feel the blood trickling down his back and arm. "S'okay," he said again, struggling to get up.

"Don't move," Skinner said, tearing at his shirt. He pulled it open and pressed his hand on the wound that was steadily leaking blood. Doggett blinked sweat out of his eyes and banged his head back on the floor, struggling to stay conscious. He could see Mulder frantically pressing buttons on his cellphone, could see the worry in Skinner's eyes and he wanted to tell the big man that he was okay but he couldn't get his lips to work. Dimly he was aware that he was staring at something under the chair he was lying beside but he couldn't figure out what it was or why it was important.

"We have to get him away from the window," Skinner was shouting to Mulder. "They could fire again."

"I don't think so. I saw two people running out there so I'm betting the sniper is long gone by now. We'll take him downstairs and out the back," Mulder said. "The paramedics will be here soon."

Skinner nodded, and then moved into Doggett's field of vision again.

"I'm going to pick you up. Hold on, John. Stay with us," Skinner said and his voice sounded as if it was coming from a great distance.

*

Doggett was swung up from the floor into a standing position. He swayed against Skinner's shoulder for a few seconds, and then he felt himself being lifted again. He realised that somehow, and he wasn't even sure how because he wasn't a lightweight, Skinner had managed to lift him into his arms. His vision kept blurring and coming back into focus and he fixed his gaze on his lover as the big man carried him down the stairs and out to the back of the house. Skinner's jaw was clenched and his face was pale with worry. He kept murmuring something that Doggett couldn't quite hear. They crashed out of the house and Skinner sank to his knees on the grass and gently deposited Doggett on the ground. He loomed over Doggett, protecting him with his body, pressing on the wound once more to stop the bleeding.

"Hold on, John...it's okay...hold on for me," he said. Doggett felt the world come back into focus.

"It's okay, Walter...it isn't life threatening," he managed to choke. "It just hurts so damn much."

Skinner nodded, but the anxiety didn't leave his face. A few seconds later Mulder came into view.

"Paramedics are on their way." Mulder crouched down beside Doggett. "We lost that man though - he ran off when you committed your act of heroism," he said in his usual ironic monotones.

"Did you find the medical notes?" Skinner demanded.

"Not yet." Mulder shook his head. "I'll go back in." He got up and paused for a moment, looking down on Skinner and Doggett, his expression unreadable. Then he seemed to nod to himself, and returned to the house.

"Paramedics won't be long, John," Skinner told him, caressing the side of Doggett's face with blood-stained fingers.

"Mm." Doggett could feel himself starting to shake and knew his body was going into shock. Skinner removed his jacket and placed it over him, then pulled Doggett over and held him close to his own body for warmth. Doggett felt safe, nestled in his lover's big arms...but something was still niggling him...something about the house...something he'd seen under that chair.

"Oh shit! Walter, get him out of there! There's a bomb in there!" Doggett cried, the memory coming flooding back in. Skinner looked down at him with an expression of total shock and then he dislodged Doggett, and ran towards the house. Doggett held his breath and he could have sworn that time stood still as he watched his lover disappear and then waited for them both to return, hoping that he had been wrong and hadn't seen what he thought he'd seen. A couple of minutes later he heard a loud bang. There was an explosion of glass above him and then a plume of flame licked out from the upper storey of the house.

"Shit...oh shit..." Doggett tried to crawl back towards the house. He was half-way there when the two men emerged, coughing loudly. They collapsed onto the grass beside Doggett and looked at the burning house in shocked dismay.

"I guess someone really wanted to hide whatever was in that place," Mulder commented quietly. Skinner nodded, his shoulders hunched. "Good thing I found these before you got me out of there," Mulder said, drawing a sheaf of papers in a file from under his sweater. Skinner smiled and took the medical notes. "Let's just hope nobody had time to make any copies," Mulder said. The two men shared a grim look and that was the last thing Doggett remembered before unconsciousness claimed him once more.

*-*-*-*

He woke to the low hum of voices. He felt tired and his entire body ached, but he knew instinctively that he was going to be fine. He opened his eyes and looked around to find himself in a hospital bed in a private room. Mulder and Skinner were sitting talking to each other in low tones - it had been their voices he had heard. He gazed at them for a moment, and experienced a familiar pang of intense jealousy. He was getting used to that sensation when Mulder was around. The two of them looked so good together, so natural; two people who had known each other for a long time, talking with the ease of long association. Doggett moved his head and Skinner got to his feet immediately and loomed into view. He was wearing a blood-stained sweater and there was a large dressing on his forehead.

"John - you okay?" he asked, his hand finding Doggett's where it was resting on the bed.

Doggett cleared his throat experimentally.

"Yeah," he said blearily. "I feel like I've gone 10 rounds with Mike Tyson but apart from that, yeah."

Skinner smiled, and squeezed on Doggett's hand gently.

"What's the damage?" Doggett asked.

"You're going to be fine. The bullet went straight through. They operated on you a few hours ago and expect you to make a full recovery." The relief in his eyes was palpable and Doggett squeezed his hand in return to reassure him. He knew the last thing Skinner had wanted, going into that house, was for anyone to get hurt and he also knew how much his lover liked to give himself a hard time. He guessed Skinner was beating himself up about this big time.

"Did you find anyone?" Doggett glanced over Skinner's shoulder at Mulder who was watching the tenderness between the two men with a curious expression on his face.

"Did you find the people behind this?"

Mulder stepped forward, shaking his head.

"No. The sniper who got you was long gone by the time we went looking for him, and the man in the house got away as well. I've been back to look at the place but it's badly burned so I don't think we'll find any clues there. Story of my life." He grinned ruefully. "Always nearly find what I'm looking for," he explained as Doggett frowned.

"A day late and a dollar short!"

Doggett returned the rueful smile with one of his own. "Yeah, I read the files," he said. "You kept goin' though. That's somethin' to be proud of. Persistence is a virtue."

"And I wish I could say it's its own reward but..." Mulder shrugged. "Every now and again I'd just like to lay my hands on some goddamn proof!"

The three men exchanged wry smiles and then a silence fell over them. Doggett struggled to sit up and Skinner helped him.

"I could do with some water - could you find me some?" he asked Skinner, wanting to talk to Mulder alone.

"I'll go and ask." Skinner squeezed his hand again and then left.

Doggett gazed at Mulder for a moment and the other man gazed back at him. Doggett found he couldn't hate his rival no matter how hard he tried.

"I just wanted to say thanks for comin' through for him," he said. "I know it means a lot to him."

"One good turn..." Mulder shrugged, making light of it.

"No, it's more than that. He doesn't like asking for help but he's been drownin' for a long time," Doggett said forcefully. "I know he's got to be feeling pleased that you helped him out. He thinks the world of you and Scully."

"And we're pretty attached to him." Mulder grinned. His grin faded, and with it went the ironic veneer. "Seriously..." He shifted uncomfortably, then looked straight at Doggett. "You're good for him, John. Scully's told me he's never looked happier than he has these past few months."

Doggett nodded, accepting the compliment and with it the implicit acknowledgement of their relationship without embarrassment.

"He deserves to be happy after all he's been through. What about you, Mulder?" He asked, curious about his rival. "Are you happy?"

"Me?" Mulder looked surprised to be asked. "I guess so," he shrugged. He bit on his lip as if considering something, scuffing the floor with his shoe, and then looked up again. "I know you've been...concerned," he said, "but me and Walter - that was never going to..." He paused again, then looked straight at Doggett, his hazel eyes sad and resigned. "Let's just say that I wouldn't have made him happy the way you do, John."

Doggett's stomach did a flip. He had no idea how on earth Mulder had guessed about his jealousy but he knew from reading the X files that Mulder had an uncanny knack for figuring out the weirdest things. He somehow wasn't surprised to find out that Mulder knew at least something about Skinner's feelings for the ex-agent, or that Mulder seemed entirely at ease with the idea, as if it even could have been possible. Doggett had always felt a strange vibe from Mulder, and he guessed that the other man was bisexual, or maybe possessed of his own spooky sexuality where gender really just didn't matter.

"Mulder, you've got Scully. You make her happy," Doggett said softly. Mulder gave him a wry, faded smile.

"John, I don't really make anyone happy," he said sadly. "It comes with the territory, it comes with being me and what I am. I love Scully with all my heart but I can't be what she wants just like I couldn't be what Walter wants, although I was tempted to try a few years back. I'm just not someone who should ever be in a relationship. I've known that all my life. With Scully...it's complicated." He gave a sad smile. "She and I have been together so long as partners, have faced so much together, and there's so much love there. I know she should be with someone else, someone who'd be there for her, not someone like me, always on a quest, always searching for something just out of reach. Walter lucked out with you, John. Scully drew the short straw with me." He shrugged.

"Don't sell yourself short, Mulder," Doggett said, suddenly feeling profoundly sorry for his rival. Mulder wasn't indulging in self-pity - he was just telling it like it was, and Doggett admired the man for that. Suddenly he saw that his jealousy had been misplaced. He had built Mulder up into this bogeyman figure, the man who had been everywhere before him, both in his work and his personal life. Oxford educated, good looking, an amazingly intuitive agent with deductive powers bordering on genius levels - and yet despite all that, Mulder knew the weaknesses at his core, the flaws that meant he could never have the kind of relationship that other people, like Doggett, took for granted, and the aching sadness at his own centre that could never be healed.

"One thing I was wondrin'," Doggett murmured. "Back at the house you knew something was wrong - how?"

"Footsteps," Mulder said with a smile, perhaps relieved to be back on more familiar territory. "There was a double echo - like someone was shadowing Skinner, trying to match their footsteps to his."

"You're some agent," Doggett whistled, deeply impressed.

"So are you. You saved his life and mine back there," Mulder told him. "I'm glad he's in such good hands. Makes me feel less guilty for screwing up his career and then taking off and leaving him to deal with all the crap I left in his life."

"He doesn't see it that way," Doggett commented, although personally he didn't disagree with the assessment.

"Then he's kinder than he should be," Mulder said.

At that moment Skinner returned with a glass of water. "The doctor said you have to sip it," he instructed Doggett. "No gulping or you might be sick."

"Christ, just give it to me. I'm parched," Doggett grumbled. "Damn doctors with their damn orders."

Skinner grinned and held the glass against his lover's lips.

"Uh-uh. Just a sip," Skinner instructed.

Doggett grabbed Skinner's arm and tried to manoeuvre more of the fluid into his mouth but Skinner took it away with a mock-stern frown. Doggett laughed. He knew his whole face was lit up with the sheer exhilaration of being alive to share this moment with the man he loved. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mulder's lips twist in a brief expression of regret, then the other man smiled, and slipped quietly from the room.

End of Part 3

Friendly feedback to 

Part 4 coming soon. Part 4 really is the final part - honest! It's all written so I'll post it when it's been to beta.

 

* * *

 

Title: Personal Time, Part 4  
Author: Xanthe  
Feedback to:   
Author's Website: http://www.xanthe.org  
Status: Complete  
Category: Story, Romance, Angst  
Pairing (Primary): Skinner/Doggett  
Rating: NC-17  
Spoilers: Season 8  
Permission to Archive: Anywhere  
Series or Sequel/Prequel: Final part of a novel-length story  
Notes: Thanks for Phoebe for beta reading this installment at a very difficult time. You're a star, Phoebe!  
Grammar note: I used UK spelling in this one.  
Dedication: This fic is dedicated to all the girls in the Walterzone for being such great friends, and encouraging, supportive and feedbacking readers. Special thanks to Phoebe for the intelligent beta and for knowing all those obscure little details. To dot for getting me inspired again after a long dry spell, to Sergeeva whose wonderful "Mistress Xanthe and the Good Boys Club" made me resurrect this story, and to Kristen for being so encouraging and supportive.  
Summary: The past comes back to haunt both Skinner and Doggett, forcing them to face up to some painful issues. Masses of Doggett *and* Skinnerangst in this bit!

* * *

Personal Time  
Part Four  
By Xanthe

Doggett endured a couple of days in the hospital and then checked himself out, thoroughly exasperated by the enforced inactivity, and less than appetising food. Skinner didn't seem to have any objections to him checking himself out - he'd spent most of Doggett's stay in the hospital grinning smugly at his lover's frustration with a "now you know how it felt for me a few months back" expression in his eyes. Nice though it was to have someone in his life who cared about him, Doggett had no intention of sitting around in bed being waited on by Skinner, and told him so gruffly as the big man drove him back to his house.

"Uh-huh." Skinner nodded.

"Are you listening to me?" Doggett demanded, non-plussed by his lover's easy acquiescence.

"Sure - and I'm certain you're going to start making sense sometime soon," Skinner replied. Doggett opened his mouth to protest but Skinner pre-empted him. "John, you're wounded - I know what that's like and I know the last thing you want is to be fussed over, but at the same time you're not in any fit state to take care of yourself. You can't wash by yourself, you sure as hell can't drive, and you need your dressing changed regularly. That's what I'm here for. Beyond that..." Skinner shrugged. "You won't even know I'm here."

Doggett grunted. Skinner grinned.

"I always knew that one day I'd meet someone who was a worse patient than me," he said with a certain smugness in his voice. Doggett gave a sour grimace and Skinner pulled up outside the house and turned to him. "John," he said softly. "You've done a damn fine job of taking care of me these past few months. Let me return the favour. Just until you're back on your feet."

"There's nothin' wrong with my feet," Doggett growled.

"What's the matter? Don't like the taste of your own medicine?" Skinner asked with a wry smile. Doggett frowned at him. "Look, John, I'm going to take care of you whether you like it or not - as you so often point out, I'm good at taking care of people."

"That's the whole point. You shouldn't have to be doin' that right now," Doggett sighed. "I don't want you to, Walter. You need a break from that kind of crap."

"I know - and I've had one thanks to you. Now it's time for you to do the same."

Doggett gazed at his lover for a long time, but Skinner's dark eyes were resolute behind the wirerims.

"You always were the most obstinate SOB I ever met," Doggett sighed at last. "More obstinate than me - and that's sayin' something." Skinner smiled, and opened the car door.

"One thing," Doggett called him back. "I need you to tell me one thing, Walter. Just how guilty are you feeling right now?" Skinner sat back down on the car seat with a thud. He took a deep breath and looked out of the window. "Look at me, Corporal," Doggett ordered softly. Skinner turned to look at him and Doggett nodded. "I thought so," he said.

"I'm not taking care of you because I feel guilty," Skinner snapped.

"I know. I know that. Walter, you couldn't know anyone was going to get hurt going into that building. You did everything you could to make sure that if anyone was going to get hurt it was gonna be you. Fate just took the whole thing out of your hands. Now, you've gotta stop beatin' yourself up about it."

"I will - just as soon as you're well," Skinner replied softly.

Doggett gazed at him steadily, and then nodded, thoughtfully. "Okay - but I think I might have to give the process a helping hand," he murmured. Skinner glanced at him, questioningly. "When I've got the use of both of 'em again," Doggett added, glancing down at his chest, where one of his arms was nestled in a sling.

"And what then?" Skinner asked, the slight catch in his voice betraying his apprehension.

"Then I'll have to deny you the use of both of yours I think. Right?" Doggett gazed at his lover insistently. He reached out with his free hand and massaged the back of Skinner's neck. "Right, Corporal?" He asked again.

Skinner glanced down at the steering wheel and then sideways at his lover, a haunted but anticipatory look in his eyes.

"Yes, sir," he said, his voice hardly a tone above a whisper.

"Good - now listen, Walter, you don't need to wait for me to suggest it. Any time you feel I can help you, then just ask." Skinner nodded, a surprised expression in his eyes, as if that hadn't occurred to him. "And of course sometimes I'll insist, like at Silvermist, because it's what you need, whether you recognise it or not," Doggett added. "Okay, Corporal?"

"Yes, Sergeant." Skinner gave a tight smile. "But right now it can wait. You're the one who needs taking care of, so let's go inside."

Skinner, true to his word, was precisely the kind of nurse that Doggett could tolerate. He didn't fuss, or nag, allowed Doggett to dictate the pace of his own convalescence, but at the same time unobtrusively made the agent's life much easier than it would otherwise have been. Doggett suspected that Skinner's bedside manner came from his own many hospital experiences - his lover was clearly being the kind of nurse he'd always wanted someone to be for him.

Skinner returned to work a few days later, leaving Doggett to his own devices during the daytime - a state of affairs that Doggett found utterly intolerable. He was a man of action, and hated being idle. He needed to be working, or working out, or making love, or at least doing something but all this enforced sitting around was driving him insane. He was able to stop using the sling after a few days, and as far as he was concerned he was well enough to go back to work - unfortunately the Bureau doctor disagreed with him. Deeply bored, Doggett took to calling Monica for an update on what was happening in the X Files office every half an hour until she lost her temper and yelled that if he was so damn interested he'd have to come down and check things out for himself. Unable to resist such an invitation, Doggett did just that. It felt good to be sitting in the office, going through the files, reading some of the new cases that had been passed their way - most of which were easily figured out just by reading the existing case report and making a few pertinent phone calls, although Doggett did put two on his 'to be investigated further' pile.

Four hours later, his arm was aching but he felt less twitchy than he had for the past few days. He was reading through a report that he thought might have been a total work of fiction for all the logical sense it made, when the door was flung wide open. Doggett got to his feet, startled, and found himself looking into the dark and none-too-friendly eyes of his boss.

"Assistant Director Skinner. I wasn't expecting to see you," he murmured, shooting a glance at Monica who immediately showed whose side she was on by making an excuse and fleeing the room, leaving Doggett to face down his angry superior alone.

"I wasn't expecting to see you either, Agent Doggett - unless the Bureau doctor changed his mind and said you're well enough to resume your duties," Skinner commented, coming into the room and closing the door firmly behind him.

"No, sir. I just thought I'd stop by and see what was goin' on my absence," Doggett replied.

"Agent Doggett, I'm delighted that you enjoy your work so much but the Bureau has a responsibility to all its personnel and that isn't a responsibility that I, as your supervisor, can allow the FBI to shirk," Skinner told him, his eyes still serious and not a little irate. "You're not well enough to be here, Agent. Go home."

"With all due respect, sir, the doctor says I can come back to the office next week, and it's Wednesday today so that's only a few more days," Doggett pointed out. Skinner smiled at his angle, but was having none of it. He put a hand on Doggett's shoulder, and ushered him towards the door.

"Go home, John," he insisted, quietly but firmly. "Rest up - you have all the time in the world to investigate apparitions and aberrations when you're fully well. In the meantime...give me your badge."

"You're takin' away my badge?" Doggett asked, stunned.

"You can have it back next week," Skinner promised, removing Doggett's badge from his pants and pocketing it. "Just as soon as I get that note from the doctor."

He walked with Doggett along the corridor, into the elevator, and out into the parking garage. "Go home, watch some TV, and get well," Skinner said, as they ended up beside Doggett's car. "But don't come back here until next week or I'll personally kick your ass."

"Are you pulling rank on me, sir?" Doggett asked, giving in gracefully. He actually rather admired Skinner's total command of the situation and resolute will. His lover had never been a pushover, but all the same it was startling to be reminded of that fact in no uncertain terms.

"Only place I can, Agent," Skinner told him with a wry gleam in his eye. He opened the car door and waited for his agent to get in.

"You know, when they told me before I began working with you that AD Skinner was a hard nosed SOB who didn't take any shit from his agents I figured they were exaggerating..." Doggett muttered, getting into the car. "Now I see that everything they said was true - and then some," he growled.

Skinner's lips turned up in the merest hint of a grin. "I'll take that as a compliment, Agent," he said smoothly. "Drive carefully, John," he added softly. "That arm isn't better yet and you know it."

Doggett sighed. "As a matter of fact it's aching like hell," he admitted, wincing as he got into the car. Doggett could have kicked himself when he saw the guilt flash momentarily into Skinner's eyes. Skinner shut the car door and Doggett gave him a faded smile and drove away.

At least that little exchange had given him an idea for how he could occupy himself for the next couple of days. Doggett glanced in his rear view mirror at the Assistant Director, standing in shirtsleeves and tie, watching him leave the parking garage. He had been more than a little aroused by the power-play that had just taken place between them - Walter Skinner in full AD mode was a force to be reckoned with, and Doggett enjoyed seeing his lover strong and able to give back as good as he got. It made him realise how far Skinner had come since agreeing to give up control to him, but all the same, the other man still needed some help dealing with the emotional fall-out from the shooting; Doggett decided that it was time for Walter Skinner to receive a little guilt-relieving session.

Doggett planned his strategy carefully, down to the last detail. Just thinking about it aroused him so much that he had to jerk off a couple of times. The first thing he did was to tell Skinner he wanted to be alone for the next couple of days but would be in touch at the end of the week. On Friday night he let himself into Skinner's apartment, made his preparations, then sat and waited in the dark in the living room for his lover to return home.

Half an hour later Skinner showed up. He threw his briefcase down on the couch with a sigh, and then stood there for a moment, rotating his neck from side to side to relieve the week's tension. That was when Doggett pounced.

"Take your clothes off, Corporal - real slow," he ordered.

Skinner jumped, startled, and peered at him in the dark apartment. Doggett reached out and turned on the lamp on the table beside him. Skinner was looking his usual fit, edible self; what seemed like acres of white shirt were stretched tautly across his broad chest, accentuating his impossibly wide shoulders, and Doggett felt his cock stir hungrily in his pants. Skinner's eyes were dark behind his wirerims, his body stiff and tense. His eyes flickered around the room, alighted on the leather cuffs Doggett had left purposefully on the coffee table and he swallowed, hard.

"Did you hear me, Corporal?" Doggett said in firm, no-nonsense tones. "It's time for that guilt relieving session I promised you," he added. "I'm feeling well enough for that and I think you need it."

Skinner swallowed, hard, and then nodded, and bowed his head.

"I can't hear you, Corporal," Doggett snapped.

"Sir, yes, sir," Skinner replied swiftly, unconsciously standing at attention. Doggett smiled.

"Then get moving, Corporal - and make it slow."

Doggett picked up one of the leather cuffs and turned it over in his hands, aware that he was drawing Skinner's eyes to his every movement. The big man's tongue darted out anxiously and licked his lips, but his hand went to his collar and he began un-knotting his tie. He tugged it off in a swift movement, and then began unbuttoning his shirt.

"I said, slowly, Corporal," Doggett purred. "I want to enjoy this."

Skinner's hands faltered and he blinked behind the wirerims. Doggett had to work hard to suppress a laugh - hard-assed AD Skinner could face down armed men without batting an eyelid but place him in a sexual arena and expect him to perform and he was as paralysed as a rabbit in the jaws of a fox.

"Lose the glasses, Corporal," Doggett said. "They're just holdin' you back right now."

He opened his legs wide, on purpose, and sat back in his chair, still caressing the leather cuff, his body exuding his enjoyment of this scenario. Skinner removed his wirerims, and placed them carefully on the coffee table, taking care not to touch the cuffs, and then he returned to the task of undressing. Doggett opened his pants and reached inside to where his cock was already pulsing with need. Skinner swallowed hard again, clearly finding this kind of openly sexual scrutiny disturbing - and arousing if the bulge in his pants was anything to go by. The big man ran a hand across his chest, and unbuttoned his shirt slowly, as requested. His face was flushed, and he kept his gaze fixed firmly on the floor.

"Look at me, Corporal. Look into my eyes as you undress. Make it good for me, Corporal," Doggett ordered softly. Skinner flushed even more, but he raised his eyes to meet Doggett's, although the agent guessed that what his lover was seeing was pretty hazy without his glasses - which was probably for the best as he knew Skinner had a streak of shyness that went very deep. He wasn't an exhibitionist, and Doggett loved mining his rich vein of sensuality and hauling it to the surface where it could be put on display for both of them to enjoy. Skinner's blunt fingertips weren't equipped for anything like a sexy striptease, and Doggett didn't demand that of him, but he did want a show - and it was a sign of the potency of their sexual power game that Skinner obeyed him even when his every normal instinct clearly rebelled. Skinner slid one side of his shirt off his shoulder, shrugged himself out of the other side of it, folded it, and placed it with his other clothes on the couch. Then he hesitated and gazed uncertainly at Doggett.

"Come here - let's make the rest of this a little more interesting shall we?" Doggett purred, plucking the cuffs from the coffee table and then opening his legs wide. Skinner walked towards him, and came to rest easily between his widespread legs. "Hands out, Corporal, you know the drill," Doggett ordered. Skinner's hesitation was small, but still noticeable. Doggett wasn't sure that he ever wanted Skinner to obey this particular command without pausing. He liked watching the big man give himself up to his submission too much - it was intoxicating. Skinner gave a reluctant growl, and then gave in and held out his hands. Doggett fastened the cuffs onto his lover's wrists and then clipped them together in front of Skinner's torso. "Nothin' too heavy, Corporal," he said softly, rubbing Skinner's bare arms to reassure him. "You can still move around with your arms tied like this. Now undress the rest of the way for me," he commanded. "Starting with your belt - undo that and give it to me."

Skinner nodded, and exhaled what sounded like a sigh of relief to find that he hadn't been tied in a more constricting way. Doggett smiled to himself - he knew he'd have to increase the bondage before the evening was through in order to give Skinner the liberation from self and absolution from guilt that he craved, but this was a good place to start. Skinner took a step back and struggled for a moment to undo his belt with his cuffed hands. He finally got the hang of it and, with a two-handed motion, whisked it out of his pants and handed it to Doggett.

"That's very good Corporal. Now the pants." Doggett gestured and Skinner fumbled for a moment with his fly and then lowered his pants and boxers to his ankles. "Undo your shoes and get rid of the socks, then kick off the pants," Doggett instructed and Skinner bent, almost totally naked, giving Doggett a fine view of his smooth backside as he did so. He removed the last remnants of his clothing and then stood, naked and bound in front of his lover. Doggett sighed. "You're a sight for sore eyes, Corporal," he purred. "Turn around for me. Let me look at you."

Skinner's skin was now flushed a bright red, and he rolled his eyes slightly, but, his gaze fixed warily on his own belt in Doggett's hands, he obeyed. Doggett grinned to himself and stretched the warm black leather belt between his fingers. He had no intention of using it to whip his lover but Skinner didn't know that and Doggett didn't think the uncertainty would do the big man any harm. Skinner turned slowly, revealing his naked body from every angle, offered up to his lover for his enjoyment. Doggett sighed with pleasure - the sight of a naked Walter Skinner was a very good one indeed. Skinner looked around sharply when he heard the sigh, misinterpreting it.

"Am I doing something wrong, Sergeant?" He asked anxiously.

"No, Corporal. Oh no - you're doin' just fine!" Doggett exclaimed, feasting on the sight of his lover's half erect cock. "I was just overwhelmed by how goddamn sexy you are, that's all! Now, come here." He gestured for Skinner to come and stand between his legs again. "Kneel," he ordered. Skinner did so, a little awkwardly, with his hands still cuffed in front of him. Doggett reached down and unfastened the cuffs - but only so that he could refasten them behind Skinner's back. "I want your hands out of the way, Corporal. All I want from you is your tongue," he said with a grin.

Skinner knelt obediently between his Sergeant's legs, and didn't fight the bondage as Doggett fastened his hands behind his back and out of the way. Doggett noticed the slight edge of panic in Skinner's dark eyes as the bondage went to a more demanding level, and Skinner tugged at his cuffs, testing them for a couple of seconds, as he came to terms with the new restriction. Doggett allowed him that - Skinner needed it, and probably always would.

"Okay, Corporal - I want you to suck me. You can't use your hands, I just want you to use your open mouth," he ordered softly. He put the belt around Skinner's neck, holding the two loose ends in each of his hands, and pulled Skinner's head towards his crotch. The big man came easily, his cock lurching in arousal at the implicit bondage in the use of the belt, however mild the action was. He bent his head to Doggett's groin and soon the agent could feel his lover's warm breath on his cock through the fabric of his briefs. Skinner nuzzled his lover's straining cock for a few seconds and then looked up, his eyes confused.

"I can't suck you, sir. I can't move your briefs." He gestured with his head in the direction of his bound hands behind his back.

"Sure you can. My cock's ready to go. You just have to release it - find a way," Doggett grinned, pulling Skinner's head down with the belt again. His lover went without question, and delicately, using his teeth, took a bunch of fabric and slid it sideways. It wasn't easy and it took him a few goes to get it right, but then he succeeded and Doggett's cock popped out eagerly, freed from its prison.

"See, Corporal." Doggett caressed Skinner's naked scalp approvingly. "You're good at this."

Skinner relaxed visibly at the praise. He leaned forward and took Doggett's cock between his lips. The agent thrust into Skinner's warm, welcoming mouth, sighing with pleasure as Skinner slid his tongue down his shaft. He allowed Skinner to caress him orally for several minutes, and then decided to test the limits of the big man's bondage again.

"Okay, Corporal. I want you to just relax and take me. You're tied, hands behind your back - I don't want you to do anything except keep your mouth open and receive me. I'm going to fuck your mouth. Understood?"

Skinner nodded, his eyes flashing with arousal. "Yes, sir," he said quickly, and then he opened his mouth obediently in readiness.

Doggett sat forward in the chair, and caressed his lover's face for a few seconds, relaxing his jaw, and then, using the belt to pull Skinner's head closer, he slid his cock into the big man's mouth. Skinner remained still, and Doggett pushed in further.

"I want you to relax the muscles at the back of your throat," he ordered. Skinner shot him a look of panic, but Doggett soothed him by gently caressing his face for a few seconds. He felt Skinner's jaw begin to relax again and took that as his cue to push in further. Skinner swallowed him down easily, and then, gasping for air, he drew back, choking. Doggett laughed and pulled Skinner close, kissing the other man's mouth firmly.

"That's okay, Corporal. It takes time to learn this trick, but I promised I'd teach you and I will. Want to try again?"

Skinner nodded, and positioned himself between Doggett's knees again. Doggett slid the belt behind his neck once more, pulled him forward, and slipped his cock between his lover's lips again. Skinner accepted the full length in one go this time, co-ordinating his breathing with Doggett's thrusts, and soon he had taken the agent's entire length down his throat.

"Oh shit that's good," Doggett purred. He pulled back to allow Skinner some air and then pushed in again to get his lover accustomed to the sensation. He repeated this several times, totally in control, using the belt to pull Skinner forwards each time. His lover quickly figured out a way to breathe and relax the muscles at the back of his throat so that he could take him and soon Doggett was sliding in right up to the root of his cock, totally enveloped in his lover's warm mouth. After several minutes he thought it was time to draw the lesson to a close as he was dangerously close to coming, so he drew back completely, allowing Skinner to regain his breath.

"Okay, Corporal. I want some more lip action now," Doggett commanded. "I want you to kneel up close."

He quickly removed his own sweater, and then pulled Skinner against his naked chest. He guided the big man to each of his nipples and let him suck there for a moment, then pushed his lover's magnificent bald head down to his lower belly and allowed Skinner to linger there, before pulling Skinner's head up to his shoulder, and guiding his lover to the puckered new scar that marked his flesh there. Skinner drew back, his eyes flashing with guilt and worry, and Doggett smiled reassuringly.

"It's okay, Corporal. It doesn't hurt. I just want you to get acquainted with it," he said softly. Skinner moved his head forward willingly, and touched the tip of his tongue to the newly healing scar. Doggett caressed his lover's head as he got used to the sensation himself - the flesh around the scar was still a little tender but Skinner was infinitely gentle in his caress. "Listen to me, Corporal. I don't want you feeling guilty about this any more. I'm not goin' to let you feel, guilty," he said firmly. "This wasn't your fault - it wasn't anyone's fault but the bastard who pulled the trigger and we're going to catch up with him one day soon."

Skinner drew back, his eyes trusting but still shadowed by guilt. Doggett knew he had to step things up to drive that expression out of Skinner's eyes.

"All right, Corporal. I'm going to hobble you again, like I did the first time I tied you," Doggett said in a soft, loving but very authoritative voice. Skinner's eyes registered panic and he drew back. Doggett put the belt firmly around his lover's neck and held him in place between his knees. "It's okay, Corporal, you just have to trust me. I'm going to tie you in place, so you can't get free...I think you need that," he said firmly. Skinner's eyes calmed a fraction and he never broke his gaze away from Doggett. He was like a drowning man, hanging on Doggett's every word as if they could save him. Doggett held the ends of the belt with one hand, and used his free hand to caress Skinner lovingly, calming and soothing him as if he were a startled horse. "I'm going to tie you so you can't move...tie you down and keep you still," he whispered. "I'm going to make you accept that, Corporal. I'm going to take you through the struggles and make you accept my will. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, Sergeant." Skinner spoke up quickly, his eyes still uncertain but his body language resolute.

"And then, while you're tied and can't move, I'm going to fuck you, Corporal," Doggett told him. Skinner recoiled, although Doggett noted that his cock was hard and interested in his words. "I'm going to fuck you when you're helpless - when you can't move or participate, when all you can do is accept and enjoy," Doggett continued in low, soothing tones. Skinner's eyes were wide, his cock weeping hungrily at the mental picture Doggett had just created for him, even though his muscles were tense and his body language unhappy. Doggett leaned forward and claimed a deep kiss, and Skinner surrendered to him willingly, giving up his lips and mouth to the caress, unable to move his hands or steady himself in any way, relying on Doggett to hold him up and keep him from falling. Doggett was more than equal to that particular task. He kissed Skinner slowly, taking his time, making love to the other man with his tongue. When they finally pulled apart, Doggett kept Skinner in position with his hand and the belt as the other man swayed in his grasp.

"Okay, Corporal - you ready for this?" Doggett asked. Skinner nodded trustingly. "Good man. Lie on the cushions and towel, face down." He pointed at the little area in front of the radiator that he had prepared earlier. "I know it doesn't have the romance of Silvermist's roaring fire but it's the best I could do," he grinned, as he got up and followed Skinner over to the cushions.

The big man lay face down as ordered, and Doggett spent a long time getting him comfortable. When he was sure that Skinner was in the best position possible, he took the ankle cuffs and strapped them into place. Skinner was quivering now, as he always did when placed in bondage, struggling with the effort of offering himself up to this act, which he both hated and needed in equal measure. Doggett calmed him as he always did, with words, and by running his hands over his lover's skin, caressing him gently.

"All right, Corporal, legs up - I'm going to fasten you into place," he said. Skinner obeyed, bending his legs behind him at the knee, his limbs trembling in earnest. Doggett took only a few seconds to fasten the ankle cuffs to the wrist cuffs, and then Skinner was locked into place. "You comfortable?" Doggett asked, adjusting several of the cushions under Skinner's chest to keep him in a position where breathing would be easy.

"No, Sergeant. I'm trussed up like a calf about to be branded. Why the hell would I be comfortable?" Skinner growled. Doggett laughed, and leaned forward to bestow a sharp slap on Skinner's buttocks, making the other man growl again, even more dangerously this time.

"Don't talk back to your Sergeant," Doggett told him reprovingly, secretly thrilled by Skinner's fiery spirit. "You look pretty good like this, Corporal, with that ass of yours exposed and ready. You look pretty hot," Doggett informed him. Skinner grunted, but Doggett noted that his body sank more easily into the cushions. "Okay, Corporal. I'm going to keep you tied for a while so I can play with you. Struggle now if you want to because I don't want you struggling later."

Skinner didn't need telling twice. He rocked around on the cushions, fighting the bonds for several minutes, growling and cursing as he did so. It was an important part of the process of liberating Skinner from the shackles of his everyday existence so Doggett made no move to hurry it. Instead he busied himself by finishing his own undressing, and arranging condoms, lube, and massage oil on the coffee table. Skinner's struggles began to subside, his breath coming in heaving pants. Doggett poured some massage oil into his hands to warm it, and then placed his hands on his lover's still wriggling body. Skinner jumped.

"It's okay, Corporal, I'm just going to take care of you." Doggett ran his oily hands over Skinner's back, smoothing out the kinks in the muscles that he found and gradually forcing Skinner to stop struggling and start relaxing. "Good, Corporal - that's good," he said encouragingly as Skinner gave himself up to the gently caressing fingers.

Doggett massaged Skinner's naked, bound body for several long minutes, smoothing oil into whatever section of skin he could reach, including the soles of Skinner's feet. His lover arched up against him when he got there and Doggett laughed out loud.

"Are these ticklish, Corporal?" He asked.

"Hell, yes!" Skinner protested. He tried to move away and failed as Doggett caught hold of one foot and began massaging it firmly. Skinner soon relaxed as he realised that Doggett's touch was too firm to be ticklish. Doggett worked for a long time, until Skinner's flesh was glistening and he was quiet and relaxed under his hands. "How d'you feel, Corporal? Are you floating free yet?" Doggett asked gently. Skinner gave a little sigh and moved his head sideways on the cushions.

"Yes, Sergeant," he murmured in a hazy, out-of-it, voice.

"Good. It's time for me to fuck you then," Doggett promised in a throaty, sexual tone. He covered his fingers with lube and slid one into Skinner's ass, finding the other man relaxed. He soon had three fingers inside Skinner, caressing him, and the big man moved his knees as much as he was able to facilitate a deeper reach. "I think you need my cock now, Corporal. Is that right?" Doggett asked.

"Yes, sir," Skinner moaned into the cushions.

"Ask for my cock, Corporal," Doggett insisted.

"Please sir, fuck my ass with your cock," Skinner said obligingly, with no hesitation. Doggett smiled. He loved seeing his lover so blissed out. It wasn't easy getting Skinner to give up his monumental control - it had to be a slow process by necessity, but the rewards were well worth the effort. Skinner was magnificent. He looked like a sleeping lion, sprawled on the cushions in an abjectly sexual position, his ass raised in the air, his legs tied to his arms, utterly unable to prevent the coming penetration even if he had wanted to, which he clearly didn't. Doggett rolled a condom onto his cock, slathered it in lube, and then knelt between Skinner's legs, and took hold of his buttocks.

"You can't stop me taking you, Corporal," he murmured. Skinner made a little whimpering sound in the back of his throat and lifted his ass invitingly. Doggett patted it. "This is all mine. You're tied, unable to stop me from exploring every inch of you," Doggett observed in a sexy tone.

Skinner didn't even move when Doggett caressed his buttocks firmly and then opened them and snubbed his cock in the big man's entrance. Skinner just lay there, loving, trusting, and needing what Doggett could give him.

"You trust me to do this, with you lying here, naked, exposed, unprotected?" Doggett whispered, sliding his cock in slowly. "You trust me to take you like this, from behind? You let me do this to you?"

"Yes, sir! Please!" Skinner panted, trying to push back to increase Doggett's maddeningly slow pace. Doggett grinned and then pushed forward the rest of the way in one smooth thrust, until he was buried to the root of his cock in his lover's warm body.

"Well if you trust me to do this, Corporal, then you have to trust me when I tell you that you have to stop feeling guilty," Doggett insisted. Skinner's body went still beneath his fingers, tensing up. "Stop that, Corporal!" Doggett ordered, pulling back then slamming his cock in again to distract Skinner. "Just remember that you trust me - that's all I want you to think about for the next few minutes."

So saying he grasped hold of Skinner's buttocks and thrust into his lover over and over again. Skinner writhed under him, but he couldn't move away, could do nothing but accept Doggett's smooth, unhurried lovemaking, and soon Skinner abandoned himself to the sensations, emitting small choked sounds of pleasure with each forward thrust. Doggett went about their love making in a slow, leisurely way, taking his time, ramming into Skinner for several long minutes, and then he came, and remained deeply embedded in Skinner's body while he kissed the big man's neck and licked some of the sweat from his broad, golden back. Finally he withdrew, but he didn't release his lover. Instead he flipped Skinner onto his back, adjusted his position until he was comfortable within his bonds, and then lowered his head and deep-throated the other man's cock. Skinner gave a cry of arousal, and tried to thrust up with his hips, but Doggett refused to be hurried. He took his time bringing the bound man to climax and then he swallowed Skinner's come.

When he was done, he lay on his side, his head propped up on his hand, gazing down on his lover.

"It's all about trust, Corporal," he said softly, caressing the side of Skinner's face with his free hand. "You trusted me to take care of you just now and I did. I trusted you to get me out of that building and you did. You have to trust me when I say that what happened in there wasn't your fault. Okay?" Skinner's dark eyes met his and there was, finally, acceptance in them.

"Yes, Sergeant," he said, in a voice that was barely more than a whisper.

"Good." Doggett leaned forward and kissed his naked, bound lover, pressing his own naked body over Skinner's. He loved the feeling of bare skin on bare skin, the scent of arousal, sweat and semen heady in the air around them. He caressed Skinner for a long time, his hands wandering over every inch of his lover's skin, just enjoying being able to play, without interruption. Skinner's body was so bewitching that it was easy to lose himself in the joy of touching, sucking, licking, kissing and caressing it all over. His lover submitted to him easily, offering himself up, even enjoying the attention of a kind he would never normally allow himself to receive. Finally Doggett stopped and gazed at his lover.

"Do you want me to release you now, or do you want to float for a while longer?" He asked.

Skinner looked at him as if stunned that there could be any doubt about his answer, and then his eyes widened even more in surprise as he realised his reply was not what he had expected it to be. "I don't want to be released just yet," he whispered. "Hold me, please, Sergeant."

Doggett smilingly agreed, resting Skinner's head on his own chest, and holding the big man in his arms.

They lay like that for over an hour before Skinner's position finally became too uncomfortable for him to remain in bondage any longer. Doggett released him and rubbed some of the kinks out of his lover's muscles. Skinner sat there amid the towels and cushions and slowly came back to reality.

"Good?" Doggett asked, lazily rubbing Skinner's wrists with his fingertips to smooth away the marks from the cuffs.

"Yes. Thank you, Sergeant." Skinner leaned forward and kissed Doggett on the lips. "These little bastards are a revelation to me," he commented, picking up one of the leather cuffs. "It never stops surprising me that being out of control can feel so damn good."

"You look mighty hot tied up too," Doggett commented with a sly smile. Skinner smiled back, his skin flushing a deep pink.

"So, I guess this means you're back in charge," he murmured.

Doggett shook his head and rubbed the back of Skinner's neck. "No, Corporal. I'm only in charge when you need me to be," he replied. Skinner glanced at him in surprise. "I mean it," Doggett said, sitting up and speaking seriously. "I'm giving you back the control you gave to me a few months ago, Walter. You've pulled yourself back from the brink of the abyss - it wasn't easy but you did it. You're looking good, and you're dealing with things a hell of a lot better. I always said that all you needed was a break and I hope I gave you that. From now on, you and me - we're equal partners. Any time you need the cuffs, you can ask, or, like I told you before, if I think you need them I'll get them out. You can be sure I'll pull you back if it looks like you're slipping, and I might insist you give up control to me again outside the bedroom when necessary for a weekend, or a week, or a month or however long is necessary, but for now...you can have your life back, Walter." He nuzzled Skinner's shoulder with his mouth. The other man sat there, clearly dazed. "I ain't letting you go, Corporal," Doggett chided, clasping his arms around Skinner's body and holding him tight, sensing Skinner's unspoken unease. "I'm just easing up on the heavy routine that's all. I'm proud of you, buddy. You've come a hell of a long way and you don't need me breathing down your neck the whole time."

"I...it's been okay." Skinner gave a hesitant shrug.

"I'm glad to hear it - but it was always a temporary arrangement." Doggett smiled broadly. Skinner gave a small, but utterly satisfied smile in return, finally acknowledging the progress he'd made.

"Thank you, John," was all he said, but the way he said it made John Doggett's heart soar and his mind sing. He knew he had the made the right decision - if he continued their arrangement any longer Skinner would chafe against it and that might ruin the delicate level of trust and affection they had built up between them. All the same, he felt a pang of loss inside. He had enjoyed rescuing Walter Skinner, and taking care of his lover these past few months - it would be hard to let go of that. Not that he intended to lose his dominant attitude in the bedroom - he suspected that both he and Skinner enjoyed that too much. It wasn't always a part of their lovemaking, but it often was, and they both loved it so he saw no reason to change that.

It wasn't easy for either of them to adjust to the alteration in the power balance of their relationship, and there were times when Doggett had to stop himself from reining Skinner back in when he thought the other man was making a mistake, but over the next couple of months they settled into a routine that made both of them happy. They were now more or less living together, although they still kept both homes. Life settled down into what Doggett soon recognised as being as close to normality as they could ever hope to achieve, given the demanding and unusual nature of their jobs. There was an easy companionship between them and as Skinner relaxed into their new arrangement, Doggett discovered a sly, witty side to his lover's personality that he hadn't seen before. Skinner enjoyed teasing the more serious, literal-minded Doggett, who took it all in good part, and found himself enjoying being teased. It felt good to be so comfortable with someone, and to have someone as reliable as Skinner to depend on. This was his fantasy come true - it was the closest to his ideal relationship, of two strong men, warriors, working and fighting and loving side by side, as he could ever hope to come. Not a day went by when he didn't count his blessings that he had found Walter Skinner - a man as right for him as any man could be, as if he'd been designed specifically to be his perfect lover.

It wasn't only that he found Skinner overwhelmingly physically attractive - there were so many things about his lover that made him so right. He loved that Skinner was good at his job, and that he enjoyed his career - Doggett felt a man should have a purpose in life, and a job that helped define him, and which he could throw himself into with passion. He loved that Skinner was a good boss, a man he could talk to both in and out of the office - a superior he could respect and admire, as well as a man he wanted to make love to every hour of every day. He loved that Skinner shared so many of his own interests, from his obsession with news and current affairs to his love of sports, especially football - a love that Doggett shared. He loved how easy it was just being with Skinner, hanging out together, drinking beer, talking - or not saying a word. They had such a comfortable relationship, never finding each other dull, or irritating. He loved making love to Skinner - loved the way Skinner often offered himself up submissively, or sometimes came at him like a raging bull, tearing his clothes off and reminding Doggett that he also liked being in charge occasionally. There was nothing about their relationship that was wrong...except, sometimes Doggett wondered who was in Skinner's heart, and, when he was tired or down, he watched Skinner make love to him and wondered whether the big man saw Mulder when he screamed out his climax, wondered whether it was still Mulder who he was fantasising about being with, and Mulder who he really loved. For a man used to being honest and straightforward, this was a question he could never find the words to ask - because he feared the answer. He had come too far and loved too steadfastly to want to find out that none of it made any difference, that to Skinner he was a companionable interlude but not the great love of his life that he knew Skinner was to him. So Doggett bided his time in silence, but the nagging question never went away.

As Winter approached Doggett felt a different sense of foreboding - one he had encountered before, which he had fought many times but never successfully. He had thought that this time it would be different, that this time he would succeed with his new love by his side to distract him, but as the leaves disappeared from the trees, leaving them stark and empty, and the first flurries of snow fell, his libido went into hibernation and he knew he had been wrong; this was one anniversary that he would never easily be able to handle. One night, as Skinner made love to him assiduously, trying to get a rise from Doggett's normally eager cock, Doggett pushed him away with muttered apologies, wrapped himself in his robe, and hurried downstairs. He poured himself a glass of water, and paused to cup his hands in the cool fluid running from the faucet. He splashed his face with water and leaned on the sink, trying to banish the memories.

"John." Skinner's voice - soft, low and gentle. A big hand stroked his shoulders and Doggett spent a few seconds struggling with his emotions, wanting to show his lover a composed face, but unable to manage it.

"I'm sorry, Walter. I don't know what..." he trailed off. He did know and he didn't want to lie, but if he spoke then it would bring it all back, and he would have to give into it all over again; he had been through this so many times before and longed not to have to keep doing it. "It isn't you," he said in a strangled tone, his voice sounding strange to his own ears. "It's me. Not you."

"It's all right, John. I know," Skinner said softly. Doggett stiffened. "Come here." Skinner pulled him around, and wrapped his arms around Doggett's shoulders, holding him against his big chest. Doggett went blindly, not trusting himself to speak. Skinner didn't ask him to. Instead he just held him against his chest for a long time, rocking him gently. It felt good to be standing here like this, comforted in his lover's embrace; good enough that he thought it might be possible for the first time to get through this, painful as it was, without falling into the dark pit of grief that usually claimed him.

"How did you...?" Doggett managed when he finally found his voice.

"I read your file remember. Several times," Skinner murmured. "I wasn't sure how you'd want to deal with it when the time came. Whether you preferred to ignore it, or whether you had some ritual you liked to observe; whether you'd need time to yourself, or whether you'd want me around even more. I thought I'd wait until you talked about it, but I made some preparations just in case."

"Preparations?" Doggett drew back and looked at his lover, but Skinner kept his arms loosely wrapped around the agent's lean frame.

"Plane tickets." Skinner reached into the pocket of his robe and took out a little plastic wallet. "I bought them a few weeks ago and I've been carrying them around in my briefcase waiting for the best time to mention it. When you flipped out up in the bedroom I figured now might be a good time to produce them. They're for New York - I didn't know whether you'd want to visit Luke's grave on the anniversary of his death next weekend, or whether that's too painful for you, so I made sure we could exchange the tickets and go somewhere else if you'd prefer. Las Vegas maybe, if you wanted to be completely distracted."

Doggett gazed at Skinner blindly for a moment. His vision was blurred and he had to rest his face on his lover's shoulder to get control of himself and blink away the tears. He stayed nestled in Skinner's arms for a long time, giving into the grief that washed through him, although he knew his tears weren't only about Luke. Somehow Skinner's thoughtfulness and tender kindness were a catalyst for the tears, and he didn't really understand why. Maybe because he was always so capable of taking care of himself that it surprised and touched him that anyone else could do that job equally well, if not better - that anybody would want to. He had always been the strong one for Tony, and somehow he had gotten into a pattern of never expecting his lovers to be there for him - his own self-reliance kept them at bay and kept him from ever having to trust them with his vulnerabilities. The anniversary of Luke's death blind-sided him every time. Every year he thought it would be different, that this year he'd be able to handle it better, and not fall into a slough of despair and mind-numbing grief, but every year he was wrong, and this year was no different. Having a new lover, and a busy and distracting job was not enough to stop him remembering sitting in that room at the precinct, staring out of the window at the stark, bare winter trees outside, as his boss broke the news to him about Luke's death. His first reaction had been angry denial, and then he'd wanted to get up and do something - anything; to see the body, to talk to Debbie, to be told it wasn't true...and then, finally, reality had sunk in, and his entire body had gone numb, devoid of energy, and he'd just sat there, gazing out of the window at the trees, an agonising pain twisting in his gut like a knife.

Doggett stayed with his head buried in Skinner's shoulder for a long time, soaking a silent patch of salty moisture into Skinner's robe, and then, finally, drew back.

"Uh..." He cleared his throat. He saw his own reflection in Skinner's glasses. It was obvious he'd been crying, his eyes were red-rimmed and shone a more watery, aqua-blue than usual - it was the first time he supposed that he'd really shown his lover any of his own vulnerability, and he braced himself for the inevitable rejection - and then found it didn't matter. Skinner wasn't Tony. He didn't falter, or pull away, unable to handle it. Instead he gave an understanding smile, squeezing Doggett's shoulder gently as he did so.

"New York would be good. I haven't been back there since I moved to DC." Doggett shrugged and swallowed down hard. "I'd like to see the headstone again. Not that I think he's there in any sense of the word," he shrugged.

"No, it's just a focus," Skinner said quietly. "Somewhere to direct the grief, and all the other feelings. I also thought you might like to revisit some of your old haunts - places where you used to hang out with Luke. The ball park maybe, his school, your old apartment. I don't know. It's up to you. Just let me know what you want to do and I'll do it all with you - or I'll stay at the hotel if you want to do it alone. I won't intrude; it's entirely up to you, Sergeant. Your call."

"Thank you," Doggett said, his voice barely more than a whisper, and the word seemed inadequate to convey the depth and sincerity of what he was feeling. He allowed Skinner to lead him back to the bedroom, to put him gently to bed, and then he allowed his lover to hold him in his arms. Doggett closed his eyes - then opened them again. All he could see were the stark trees, devoid of leaves and life, just like Luke's empty, abused body, laid out bare in the police mortuary, his beloved face as white as the sheet he was wrapped in. Every year the trees reminded him of that stark, terrible day - black trunks against a cold, white sky, reminding him of the anniversary soon to arrive and giving rise to those feelings of grief and guilt and hurt all over again. Luke had been his beloved only son but he hadn't been able to keep him safe, hadn't been able to protect him. It was the worst failure any father could ever know. Your children bury you - you don't bury them. Skinner's hand stroked a loving trail over Doggett's body, and came to rest on his hip. He could feel his lover's breath warming the back of his neck, and purposefully snuggled back further so that his back was pressed firmly against Skinner's chest. Skinner moved his arm and tightened it around Doggett's waist, keeping him close, keeping him anchored. His lips brushed Doggett's shoulder, warm and loving. Doggett closed his eyes again. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe this time it would be different.

New York was still as he remembered it. Still bustling, and lively. There had a been a time when that noise and activity had thrummed in Doggett's veins, energising him. He had viewed this city as something of a soul-mate. Driven, ambitious, tough, uncompromising, active - he recognised himself in it, and he had loved living here. If it hadn't been for what had happened to Luke he never would have moved away, and certainly not to a place like Washington DC, with its polished facades and tourist-pretty parks and monuments. Washington DC was a place of politics, a difficult, complex city, where people said one thing and meant another. It wasn't raw and honest in its dirt like New York - for a long time he'd felt no affinity with his new home at all, but affection for it had crept up on him unexpectedly. No, Washington DC wasn't in his soul as New York was, but while it could never be a soul-mate, it could be a sanctuary, and in the aftermath of his terrible grief and loss he had come to appreciate its stately beauty, its quiet confidence, gentle pleasures, and historic charm.

He had never thought he would come back, but this was different, because he was different, and because he was coming back with Walter Skinner standing by his side. Doggett shouldered his bag and glanced at his lover, surprised not only that he needed the reassurance, but also that he didn't mind seeking it from Skinner. His lover smiled at him, and shrugged.

"You lead the way, John. This is your place."

Your place.

"It was once," Doggett murmured. "Not any more."

"You've grown fond of DC huh?" Skinner smiled, making small talk. "That's home now is it?" He headed towards the taxi rank outside JFK. Doggett followed behind, frowning.

No, he thought to himself, his lover's broad back filling his vision as he walked. Anyplace you are is home, Walter. But he didn't say it. He didn't find it easy to say anything so overtly sentimental - it wasn't him, but more than that, he had shied away in recent weeks from his earlier blunt honesty about his emotions. In the early days it had been easy to tell Skinner he loved him, and to expect nothing in return - but now his feelings were exponentially deeper, and he felt any declaration would either force Skinner to admit that he couldn't return those feelings, or else put unfair pressure on him to say that he did. Doggett didn't want a love borne out of a desire to be kind - he wanted the real thing - and he could no longer face the risk of rejection. He had fallen too deeply in love to handle that. He was aware that this issue was making him moody, that having to bite back from saying what he felt was frustrating his natural sense of honesty, but he hoped that Skinner was misreading his brooding silences as yet another symptom of his difficulty in dealing with the anniversary of Luke's death - and that hope made him feel guilty and even more bad tempered. He would never have hidden behind Luke while he was alive, so do to so now that he was dead seemed despicable.

Thoroughly unsettled, Doggett got into the taxi beside Skinner. He gazed at the bustling streets as they drove, feeling that familiar thrum in his veins again. This place had a rhythm all of its own, almost like a heartbeat. No matter what great tragedy had befallen him here, this city was a part of him, and not always a part he liked very much. They reached the hotel Skinner had booked for them and Doggett gave a whistle of surprise.

"This place is expensive, Corporal," he said, managing an awed smile. Skinner smiled back.

"Only the best for you, Sergeant," he replied.

Doggett's smile faded and he settled back into his previous grim mood as they went inside and collected their room key. Being back here for this anniversary was un-nerving him, giving him the jitters. He wanted to be here, but at the same time he wasn't sure that he could handle it - no, that wasn't quite true - the truth was that he didn't want Skinner to see him struggling to handle it. That was at the heart of it. He didn't want his vulnerabilities laid bare, even to this man who he loved more than he loved his own life.

Doggett barely noticed the plush opulence of their room, with its enormous emperor sized bed and en-suite marble bathroom. He stood by the window, staring out sightlessly at streets he had once policed, that he knew like the back of his hand, and which now seemed alien to him - just like the man standing by his side. This man didn't belong here, in this place. He wasn't part of it. Doggett leaned his forehead on the window, remembering. He could see Luke so clearly now that he was back. Could see him running along these streets which had been his home, could remember buying his son a bagel on the deli close to his apartment block .It had been a kind of ritual - he'd pick up his son from his mother, and they'd buy a bagel and eat it as they walked down the street. He could see himself, tall, slowing down his walk to match that of the small, beloved figure by his side, both of them with cheeks full to bulging, unable to speak around the chewy bagel. Luke would take a skip step to keep up every now and again, his blue eyes shining at the pleasure of being out with his father, his spiky brown hair so like his own. Doggett raised a hand, remembering how it felt to place it on those small shoulders, guiding his son down the street, companionable in their bagel-filled silence.

"Okay, John?" Skinner asked quietly, waiting, doing nothing wrong. Doggett was jolted out of the memory, but he couldn't share his emotions, not even with Skinner. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't shake off the sensation of being detached, a ghost in a city that had once been his home. As much a ghost here as Luke was - neither of them had any right to be here now. Both of them had moved on. Returning had been a mistake.

"I'm fine," he snapped, loathing himself for the fraud he was. Christ, he'd made Walter face up to his weaknesses and deal with his problems, had forced him to be vulnerable in front of someone else, but he wasn't prepared to give the same back. He hated himself, hated this damn place for making him feel this way and hated Skinner for being here to witness it.

"Did you want to go out to eat, or...did you want to visit the grave right away?" Skinner asked softly, ignoring Doggett's snappy tone. "I know that technically tomorrow is the anniversary...but you might not want to wait until then."

Doggett felt all his muscles tense under his clothing. "Tomorrow," he said tersely, from between gritted teeth. "I'll do this properly if I'm going to do it, damnit."

"You don't have to do it at all," Skinner reminded him gently.

"Yes." Doggett turned away from the window. "Yes I do."

The evening passed in glum silence. Doggett rebuffed all his lover's attempts at conversation and descended instead into a morose mood. Skinner rose above it, seeming not even to notice it, his dark eyes always compassionate, calm and gentle. After dinner they went back to the bedroom, although it was still early. Skinner sat on the bed, while Doggett lay on the other side of it, as far away from his lover as possible, gazing sightlessly at the ceiling. Skinner reached for a book, and sat reading it by the light of the lamp. Doggett resented Skinner for being able to read, resented him for bringing him here, and was angry with himself for agreeing to it. He stewed silently in his anger and his raw and confused emotions for a long time...and then it dawned on him that Skinner hadn't once turned a page. He glanced over, and gazed at the big man, who was cast in the soothing glow of the lamp. Skinner's polo shirt was open at the neck. He was looking down on his book as if he was reading, one of his blunt fingernails scratching aimlessly at the corner of the page. Doggett felt a wave of shame, and remembered Tony. He recalled only that his old lover had let him down, that he hadn't been able to deal with his grief and his moods but, looking back, he wondered whether anyone could have. If he was feeling bad now, several years after the event, how much worse had his behaviour been back then, when he had been in the midst of a storm of grief that he repressed and held down until it threatened to destroy him? Only when it had finally burst out of him in an explosion of agony at Silvermist, had he really come to terms with it and that had been many months after Luke's death. Was he shutting out Walter the way he had shut out Tony? Skinner's finger continued scratching at the page, and Doggett noticed that his free hand was lying on the comforter, just a few inches away from his own head; Skinner had moved into the centre of the bed, closer to Doggett, but not all the way. He'd left the rest up to his lover, as if to say, "I'm here if you need me, but I won't intrude if you don't." Doggett lay still for a little longer, and then slowly, inch by inch, he moved towards that waiting hand, and then, hesitating slightly, rested his head against it. He heard a small, satisfied sound emerge from Skinner's throat, but he didn't look up to see his lover's expression. A second later, he felt those blunt, capable fingertips gently caress his hair, and that was the closest he came to allowing himself to give in and accept the comfort his lover so obviously wanted to give him.

Doggett wasn't sure he slept at all that night. Images of Luke fogged in and out of his mind; blurred, hazy images, reminiscent of those first horrific weeks after they'd found his son's body, when Doggett had limped from one day to the next in a miasma of guilt and pain. The next day his eyes were ringed with dark shadows when he splashed water on his face to clear the mugginess from his head. They left the hotel early, and made the trip to the cemetery. Doggett remembered the last time he had made this journey. Only then it had been raining, and everyone had been dressed in black, with huge, black umbrellas. Now the sun was shining and although it was cold, it was a beautiful day with a bright blue sky. A procession of dark cars swept past as Doggett and Skinner got out of the taxi. Doggett gazed at them and then turned on his heel and walked out to where they had buried Luke. He remembered the journey all too well, couldn't forget any step of it, even though the last time he had walked it he had barely looked up from his muddy shoes the entire way. He could hear Skinner behind him, and vehemently wanted the other man gone, was busy feeling his anger and irritation that Skinner was here, that he was here, when suddenly he came upon the grave and it was as if all the breath had been knocked from his body. It was well kept - he and Debbie paid for its upkeep between them, and he guessed she visited occasionally although she had moved away from New York even sooner than he, unable to bear the memories. There were fresh flowers, and Doggett laid the ones he'd brought alongside them. He crouched down and read the words on the headstone as if they had been placed there by a stranger, and not chosen in love and grief by himself and Debbie.

Luke Martin Doggett.

He couldn't get beyond the name and read it over and over again. Skinner touched his arm, breaking into his thoughts.

"Do you want me to stay, or do you want to be alone?" Skinner asked softly.

"I don't want you here," Doggett growled under his breath, trying to keep his emotions under control. Skinner nodded, his dark eyes understanding behind the wirerims, not taking offence at either the words or the snarling tone. He walked away and Doggett gazed after him. Only when he was sure he was alone did he break down. He knelt in front of the grave, and felt the warm, salty tears stream down his face and onto the grass beneath. Grass. Last time he had been here it had been earth. Doggett gazed at the headstone sightlessly.

Luke Martin Doggett.

He could barely make out the dates that added up to 8 short years of life. He shouldn't have come back. Why had he come back? No, that wasn't the right question...

Why did you take so long to come back?

That was the right question - why had he waited until now to come back? He knew the answer immediately - because of Walter Skinner. Skinner had bought the tickets, Skinner had been by his side, a real support, when before he had been so busy being strong for Debbie while Tony had been next to useless beside him. He had come back now because he finally had someone to share this with, someone who wouldn't back away as Tony had, someone who wouldn't lean on him for support as Debbie rightly had - and what had he done? He'd pushed him away.

Doggett got up and walked, blindly determined, back down the path to where the burly, black-coated figure of his lover was meandering between the gravestones, head bowed, studying the inscriptions intently, with respect. He caught up with Skinner, and put his hand on the other man's arm.

"Sorry," he whispered.

"For what?" Skinner looked surprised. He put his hand on Doggett's back and soothed a gentle pattern on his coat.

"Shuttin' you out. I pushed and pushed at you to open up to me when you were in trouble, and yet the minute I'm strugglin' with something I shut you out. I'm sorry."

"I didn't give in any more gracefully than you - it isn't easy, John," Skinner said, still caressing Doggett's back with his fingertips. They began walking up the incline towards Luke's grave.

"I want you to be here. Luke would've liked you. He never liked Tony much - I think they viewed each other as competition for my attention. You and he would have got on great though. He was a good kid." Doggett paused, his eyes glassy again. "I should have come back here before. It wasn't like I never thought about him because there ain't a day goes by when I don't...I just never came back."

"John, it's like you said - he isn't really here," Skinner said softly.

"Some part of him is. The part we buried," Doggett murmured, coming to a halt in front of the grave. This time he didn't feel annoyed when Skinner put his arm around him and held him tight, and he didn't even try to hide his tears when they started again. Skinner didn't say a word, just stood there, holding him, as Doggett finally cleared the last hurdle in his acceptance of his grief for his murdered son.

A curious sense of peace swept through Doggett at the cemetery. He spent the rest of the day in a haze of serenity, walking with Skinner around New York, showing him his favourite haunts, the places where he used to eat, his old apartment block, the apartment block just around the corner where Debbie and Luke used to live; they walked past Luke's old school, and even visited the ball park where he and his son used to play together. Although on one level it was painful, it was also a good and necessary kind of pain, and with Skinner beside him he knew he could handle it - could handle anything. He had never had anyone he could talk to about Luke before and he found he loved telling anecdotes about his son, each one prompted by a place or a building that they visited. Skinner listened to each story intently, chuckling gently, or shaking his head silently, some part of his body always in contact with Doggett - his hand gently resting on his lover's shoulder, or soothing circles on his back, or resting on his knee.

When they got back to the hotel, late that evening, Skinner drew a bath for them both and they sat together in the warm bubbly water. Doggett gazed at the man he had just shared the most intimate part of his life with; the part that was still raw and hurting, the part that he knew could never properly heal...although time would no doubt wave its magic wand and relieve some of the hurt one day.

"Thank you, Walter," he said sincerely. "For bein' with me today. I don't think I would have come back if it hadn't been for you. I never felt I could face it before - but you know, I'm glad I did."

"Good." Skinner smiled that almost shy smile of his. Doggett was overwhelmed - he drew Skinner close, and held him, kissing his bare scalp idly as he did so.

"I want to make love to you, Corporal," he murmured.

"Any time, Sergeant," Skinner replied easily, his hand stroking Doggett's already hardening cock.

"Slow and deep and long," Doggett whispered into his lover's ear. "Right here - in the bath," he added. Skinner's eyes widened and Doggett gave a little laugh. "Well, it's sure as hell big enough," he said, waving his hand around at the huge, marble tub.

"Anything you say, sir," Skinner acquiesced easily. He hopped out of the tub and brought back lube and condoms, which he rested on the side. Doggett held out a hand to help him back into the bath and then pulled him down into the water and subjected him to a deep, claiming kiss.

"I want you inside me," Doggett said when he released him. "I want to connect tonight, Corporal. I want to feel that monster of yours deep within me."

"Sounds fine to me, John," Skinner murmured lovingly, nuzzling the side of Doggett's face.

The tub was deep enough that Doggett was able to float on his back, his arms along the side of the bath, keeping his head out of the water, while his body floated free. Skinner knelt between his open legs, and inserted a lubed finger. Doggett sighed and lay back, allowing his body to relax and his lover to prepare him. When Skinner solicitously asked if he was ready, he nodded, and gazed dreamily at his lover as Skinner edged his cock between his parted buttocks, and then slid smoothly into his body. Doggett gasped - it was a beautiful sensation. Skinner's hard, vibrant cock filling him, while the warm bathwater swirled around them both. "Slow and deep, Corporal," he murmured, surrendering to the sensation. Skinner nodded, and slid out and then back in again with exquisite languor. Doggett felt boneless with pleasure. His lover looked so beautiful, his wet chest hair plastered against his body, his eyes guileless without the wirerims to hide behind.

"You're so fantastic," Doggett whispered, as Skinner reached out to take Doggett's hard cock in his hand. Skinner smiled and thrust slowly in and out in time to the massaging of his hand on Doggett's cock.

"I could say the same thing," he said in a low, throaty tone. "You look so hot lying here like this in the water."

Doggett smiled and flicked some bubbles at his lover and Skinner laughed - a sound that Doggett heard rarely but loved beyond words. Then they were both serious again as Skinner slid slowly, in and out of Doggett's warm, relaxed body. They made love lazily, connecting all over again through the act, both of them deeply affected by the many and deep emotions that had preceded it, and which had brought them closer together than they'd ever been. Skinner made sure Doggett came first, his come disappearing into the water, and then he brought himself off, his thrusts coming harder, making some of the water spill over the side of the enormous tub. When he'd finished, he drew out, tied the used condom and lobbed it onto a soaked towel lying on the floor, then he unexpectedly picked Doggett up bodily, put him down gently on the floor, got out of the tub himself, and grabbed one of the huge, fluffy hotel towels. He wrapped them both in it, enveloping Doggett in his arms and kissing his lover as he dried them both. Then he walked the tired agent into the bedroom, pushed him into the bed, and got in beside him.

"Are you okay, John?" He asked softly. "About what happened today? About this anniversary?"

Doggett sighed and turned so that he was facing Skinner. He traced a finger over his lover's lips. "As okay as I'll ever be, I think. Thank you, Walter. You helped me finally lay something to rest today - I don't think I could have done it alone. I needed you today - and I'm not used to needing people. It gives me some insight into how things must have been for you a few months ago when your problems were at their worst. I don't think I was as patient with you then as you've been with me."

"Bullshit," Skinner grinned. "See, that plain talking of yours is rubbing off on me. I needed someone who'd tell it to me straight, John. Today you just needed someone to be there for you. I'm glad it was me - honoured you'd let it be me."

Who else could it possibly be but you, the man I love so much, helping me say a final goodbye to the boy I loved so much? Doggett thought to himself, but he didn't say anything, just contented himself with burying his face in his lover's chest and surrendering himself to the feel of his lover's arms wrapped around his body, knowing that this was the first anniversary of Luke's death that hadn't ended with him drinking himself stupid or crying himself to sleep.

Doggett woke the next day feeling more bright and alive than he had for the previous few weeks. He took a shower and got dressed before Skinner even woke up, and then an idea occurred to him. He broached it with Skinner over breakfast.

"I was wondrin'...would you like to drop in on my old precinct, and visit my old colleagues? It seems a shame while I'm in town not to go and see them. You don't have to come with me, but I'd like to go." Doggett took a sip of his coffee and gazed at his lover.

"I'll come. Why not?" Skinner smiled easily. He glanced down at his newspaper and took a bite out of his toast.

"Tony might be there," Doggett said. "I know he's still in the same job."

Skinner's jaw stopped in mid-chew, and then made that familiar sideways motion that betrayed some kind of deep emotion - although Doggett wasn't sure what it meant in this instance.

"You don't have to come if you don't want to," Doggett said quietly.

Skinner swallowed down his toast thoughtfully, and then took a large gulp of orange juice to wash it down. "No," he said finally. "I'd like to come with you."

Nothing had changed. Doggett felt a wave of nostalgia as he walked into the scruffy police station. People were walking in and out, a drunk was shouting loudly in a corridor, someone had recently dripped blood on a patch of the floor and everywhere was hustle and bustle. It was all so different from the neat, smartly dressed world of the FBI. It was a rough, tough place - somewhere he belonged.

Skinner glanced at him. "I can imagine you here," he said perceptively.

Doggett gave a wry grin and shrugged. "Seems just like comin' home," he murmured.

Skinner gave a faded smile in return. "Ever think of returning?" he asked carefully.

Doggett glanced around. Before he'd come here he would have said no - but now that he was here... he wasn't entirely sure. He didn't reply, and caught the slight flash of Skinner's eyes behind the wirerims as he put his own interpretation on that lack of response.

Doggett walked easily into the bullpen, and paused on the threshold, taking in the sights and sounds. There were some new faces - but a lot of old ones as well. He glanced around, unmoving, feeling Skinner's solid reassuring shoulder against his own. Then someone caught sight of him, and a shout went up, and before long he was surrounded by old friends, lost in a melee that saw both he and Skinner dragged into the Captain's office amid a throng of people. "John, you old dog. I knew you'd turn up here again one day," Captain O'Brien was saying, slamming him repeatedly on the back with a big beefy arm. Sam Heggarty was handing him a coffee and Marcia King had stuck a sweet, sugary donut into his free hand. Doggett looked around to make sure his lover was okay, but Skinner was just standing there, grinning, clearly enjoying this evidence of his lover's popularity among his former colleagues.

"Hey, slow down!" Doggett remonstrated, putting his hands up in surrender, one holding the cup of coffee, the other still clutching the donut. "Thanks, Marcia - I can see you haven't forgotten!" He took a large bite out of the donut and winked at the large, motherly black woman who put her head back and laughed.

A clamour of voices went up, demanding to know how he was getting along and what brought him back to New York , but the Captain drowned them all out with his huge, bellowing voice, his Irish-American tones giving him a lilting sound that brought back so many memories for Doggett that for a moment he felt as if he had stepped back in time, and that nothing had changed; he still worked here with these people, Luke had never been murdered, he had never left to join the FBI, had never even heard of the X Files...had never met the tall, handsome, burly, utterly sexy man who was standing a little way off to the side, looking bemused but pleased at the same time.

"So, John Doggett, you still one of those men in black?" O'Brien asked him. "Still running around covering up evidence of UFO's and little green men are you, John?" A guffaw went around the room and for a moment Doggett thought they must have heard about his work on the X Files - and then realised they were just making fun of the movie Men In Black. It wasn't a usual career path for an officer of the NYPD to end up working at the FBI and they were all intrigued.

"That's right, Captain," he winked. "But I'm getting mighty hacked off with all these aliens so I thought I'd come back here and spend some time with you folks who are out chasin' real criminals," he added. The room erupted again in a fit of cheering and whistling.

"Seriously, John - are you here in an official capacity?" O'Brien asked. Doggett glanced down at his jeans and sweater - hardly official FBI garb.

"No, Liam. Just...checking somethin' out," he said, mysteriously. "I should introduce you to Walter Skinner here." He waved his arm towards his lover. "Mr. Skinner is an Assistant Director at the FBI - he's also my immediate superior so I'd be grateful if you didn't fill him in on any of the uh, more colourful incidents from my time here."

Another guffaw went around the tiny office, but Doggett didn't miss the slightly awed glances his old colleagues directed Skinner's way - his lover's rank preceded him here as it did everywhere. Whatever the politics of his position in the Bureau, out here in the real world he wielded a lot of power and he was a symbol of authority to these people. Doggett smiled - he liked the fact that at least here Skinner got the respect his position entitled him to.

"You're very welcome, sir," Marcia said, offering Skinner a donut and coffee - both of which he wisely accepted, although Doggett knew he hated donuts so it was a clever move on his part in order to be accepted by these people. Doggett flashed a grin at his lover, full of pride at the way Skinner always knew how to handle himself, and how to get along with people. It was a relief not to have to worry about Skinner, or to have to nursemaid him along when he was in an unfamiliar environment - unlike Tony...Doggett took a deep breath as his searching eyes found one familiar face in the crowd: Tony Larsen. They looked at each other for a long time, sharp, detective gazes taking in one thing, while ex-lover gazes were looking for something else entirely. Tony hadn't changed much. His blue eyes were as vivid as ever, although his face was more jowly, a concession to age which had only just started to diminish those boyish good looks that had once attracted Doggett so much. He was a little thinner around the hairline, and a little fatter around the middle - one too many donuts, Doggett guessed, combined with too many hours sitting on his ass writing up reports and not enough out chasing anyone. Tony had always had a lazy streak, combined with a tendency to go wild and run off for days on end as well - it had always been all or nothing with Tony, a perpetual rollercoaster of emotion. Doggett was suddenly extremely glad that he'd gotten off that particular rollercoaster, and was with someone much more sensible and down to earth instead...which reminded him...Doggett glanced at Skinner to find that his lover had already made the connection and was gazing at Tony - who, for his part, was still scrutinising Doggett intently, a dark, moody look brewing in those bright blue eyes. Doggett remembered how that look had always preceded thunderstorms before - Tony had never been good at hiding what he felt, and he obviously still had some strong emotions for his ex-lover.

Doggett was going to say something, but as he moved his hand to begin talking he knocked over the coffee cup he'd left balancing precariously on the Captain's desk and then he was engulfed in a melee as Marcia got splattered with hot coffee and the rest went all over O'Brien's papers and when he looked up again Tony had disappeared - and so had Skinner.

Doggett spent the next few minutes helping to clear up the coffee, while saying hello to old friends and answering questions about his job, and then, gradually, the crowd began to disperse but the Captain wanted to show him off so he was paraded around the station, shown the new computer system, reintroduced to people who, to his shame, he knew he had once addressed by name but who he had now forgotten. So it was a good half an hour before he finally got a chance to escape and go looking for his lover and ex-lover.

He found them in an interrogation room. Tony was sitting sprawled in a chair, his over-active fingers playing with a pad of paper that had been left in there. Skinner was sitting with his overcoat wrapped tightly around his body, his hands in the pockets, his untouched donut and coffee sitting on the table between them. He looked calm, maybe even a little amused, but there was a deadly kind of power in those dark eyes as they flashed behind the wirerims. Doggett paused, fascinated, as he watched the two men face off through the glass window to the interrogation room. He was about to go into the room, but something stopped him. Tony looked like a petulant child who found that someone had been playing with his favourite toy while Skinner looked every inch the adult - and a very dangerous one at that. Doggett was fascinated by the two men - they couldn't have been more different, and yet he had loved them both at some point in his life. While he couldn't deny the love he'd once had for Tony, beside his love for Skinner it seemed a very childish, insubstantial kind of emotion. The two men were talking, and Doggett was able to catch parts of their conversation.

"I think you're dancing around the question, that's all," Tony said in his familiar, lazy drawl.

Skinner raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realise this was an interrogation," he replied smoothly.

"It ain't." Tony's eyebrows furrowed across his forehead in an expression of frustration and impending explosion that Doggett remembered all too well. He watched Skinner measure Tony up, could almost see him reconciling this man, with his pale hair and air of nervous energy, being the previous owner of those leather cuffs that always raised such strong emotions for him.

"If you've got a question, why don't you just come straight out and ask it?" Skinner said calmly. Doggett suddenly had the awareness that Walter Skinner was a veteran of far more interrogations that Tony Larsen - and that his current lover had negotiated with men far more dangerous than his disgruntled ex-lover. Skinner's calm strength was in stark contrast to Tony's usual jumpy, fidgety movements and Doggett felt a sudden wave of total, paralysing, self-realisation.

Oh god - what had he done?

He'd taken this man, this strong, powerful, confident, even dangerous man, and asked him to submit? Had ordered him onto his knees? How had he even dared? Skinner was no Tony Larsen - it was only seeing them both in the same room that Doggett was aware of how completely different they were - Skinner was in another league entirely. He was a man, where Tony had only ever been a petulant, attention-seeking boy. And yet this man had offered everything up to Doggett; suddenly the meaning of that gift became all too clear to him and he was filled with a sense of awe that he, of all the men in this world, had been the recipient of it.

"Okay, let's cut the crap. He walks in here and says you're his boss and maybe you are, but you and I both know that you're more than that to him," Tony snapped. Skinner raised an eyebrow. "I saw the way he looked at you - saw the way you smiled at him...so what's the deal? You're his fuck toy? Or he's yours? What? Why did he come back here? What's he tryin' to do? Rub my nose in it? Or maybe he's missin' me - huh? Is that it?"

Skinner gave a wry grunt and shook his head. Doggett had to catch himself from doing the same - it was absurd. He and Skinner were so much a unit, so clearly together that there was absolutely no chance of Tony Larsen coming between them. Any regrets he might have had about the way his relationship with Tony had ended suddenly disappeared.

"What's the matter - you told me to ask you straight. Don't you have any answers?" Tony demanded angrily.

"Mr. Larsen, you may ask me any question you like - I never gave you any promise of an answer," Skinner replied smoothly. Tony's eyes narrowed.

"I can't see you giving him what I used to. He doesn't like it easy - he likes it hard, challenging, and you're way too old and too damn...in charge for him. He likes to be the one handing out the orders. Christ, don't you have anythin' to say to any of this? What the fuck kind of man are you? Doesn't any of this get a rise from you? Huh?" Tony kicked out at a nearby chair and Doggett recognised all the signs of the explosion he'd predicted.

"If you have any questions of a personal nature about Agent Doggett then I suggest you address them to him," Skinner said calmly. He got up, his expression neutral and completely un-phased, the set of his shoulders utterly implacable.

"I haven't seen the guy in years!" Tony protested. He glanced over Skinner's shoulder and Doggett was sure Tony had caught sight of him, because he immediately raised his voice a little louder, clearly intent on being heard by anyone standing outside the door. "Then he turns up here like this with you in tow, both of you so goddamn polished like you stepped out the pages of GQ and it's like he's flaunting you or somethin', and he makes a grand fucking entrance, and looks at me - just looks at me like he did. I just think I have a right to know what's goin' on, that's all," he whined.

Doggett sighed and pushed the door open. Trust Tony to make a completely inappropriate scene - he was still trying to get Doggett's attention after all these years, in the noisiest, most irritating way possible - only now it was obvious to him how manipulative his ex-lover's behaviour was, and he felt a surge of relief that he was no longer so caught up in Tony's dramas that he didn't see what was going on. Tony had always been a morass of emotional energy - sometimes it had revealed a vulnerability and spirit that Doggett had been attracted to, but more often that not it had simply served to hide a dark, self-absorbed streak that he hadn't fully glimpsed until after Luke's death, when for the first time in his life he'd needed someone to be there for him - and had found that Tony most definitely wasn't going to be that person.

"Hello, Tony," he said quietly, as he walked into the room. Tony flushed, and Doggett remembered how much that subtle pinking of his pale skin had once aroused him - but not any more. Tony Larsen was most definitely history. If it was a choice between him and Walter Skinner there simply wasn't any contest. Skinner might be older and have none of Tony Larsen's boyish charm but he had something else - something much more real, solid, and reassuring. He didn't seriously think that Tony Larsen wanted him back after all these years - but he knew that both the authoritative spark that had attracted Tony to him and the ghost of their relationship were still there - and Tony didn't know how to handle either of them.

"John...you're looking good," Tony said softly as if Skinner wasn't there, glancing up at Doggett from under his thick eyelashes; those blue eyes of his were still seductive, but somehow that little boy lost expression no longer worked on him.

"Thanks." Doggett inclined his head. "If you guys are finished here, then we should be making a move, Walter."

"Oh, I think we're finished," Skinner said dryly.

"John...I was wondering why you came back." Tony gave a shyly seductive smile, his expression hopeful. Maybe he really did believe that Doggett had come back for him. "I didn't buy all that bullshit about checking up on something. Why are you here, John?"

"It's the anniversary of Luke's death," Doggett said bluntly. "Walter and I went out to visit his grave."

Tony had the grace to look embarrassed. He stuck a finger under his collar and loosened it a little. "I'm sorry. I guess I should have figured that out," he murmured.

"There's no reason why you should." Doggett shrugged. "I'm glad you're doin' okay, Tony. Looks like you've lost that death wish of yours. I used to think you'd never live to see 35 but here you are." He spread his arms wide and gestured at his ex-lover.

"Well, I guess without you around to impress there's no point doing the death or glory stuff any more," Tony replied and Doggett thought that might have been the most honest thing he'd ever heard his old lover say.

"Yeah...I wasn't good for you, Tony," he murmured, shaking his head, remembering the many times Tony had scared the hell out of him by risking his life out of need for Doggett's attention and in the hopes of forcing him into a display of strength and dominance. Doggett sighed. Tony had suckered him in good - but he had gone along with it all so willingly, wanting to be needed, even on some level enjoying his power over the other man. It had been an unhealthy relationship for both of them. What he had with Skinner was so much more real and honest.

"Ready to go, Walter?" He asked and Skinner nodded, his eyes dark, steady and even a little amused by Tony's shenanigans. Doggett smiled. He waved goodbye to Tony, stopped off to make his farewells to Captain O'Brien and his old colleagues in the bullpen, and then, with Walter Skinner by his side, he sauntered out of the station for what he knew would be the last time. Skinner's broad shoulder was so close to his that he could feel the other man's warmth through his jacket. He didn't look at Skinner as they swept out onto the humming New York street - didn't need to. They were warriors, strong men, walking side by side, leaving the past where it belonged - behind them.

"No," Doggett said, answering the question he had avoided earlier. "I don't think of returnin', Walter. I belong someplace else now. This..." He paused and looked up and down the bustling sidewalk. "This isn't home any more," he said softly. "Hasn't been since Luke died. Let's go back home, Walter. We're through here."

The trip to New York somehow resolved something for Doggett - something he didn't even know he'd been struggling with - and when he returned to Washington DC it was if he was seeing the place for the first time. He had never really let go of his life in New York - not really, not in his heart. It had been interrupted, tragically cut short, the decision almost taken against his will. He had never wanted to leave - he had just been unable to stay. Now, having gone back, he felt as if he was making that choice willingly for the first time - and Washington DC held happy memories for him. Washington DC was where he had met Walter Skinner, where he had first made love to Walter Skinner, where they shared a life together. Washington was where his work was, a job he felt passionate about. He might still have his share of problems, but for the first time in a long time he was truly content, and it was only when he realised that that he was also realised he hadn't been before.

Having left the past behind, it therefore came as a total shock to Doggett when it decided to catch up with them - in the most brutal way possible. A month after their return from New York, he received a frantic phone call from Kim first thing on a Wednesday morning.

"Hey, slow down - what is it?" Doggett said, getting to his feet, torn between running for the door and charging up the five flights of stairs to her office and staying to listen to what she had to say.

"It's AD Skinner. I...Agent Doggett, he's gone."

"Gone? What do you mean?" Doggett frowned. He had seen Skinner on Monday night and his lover had been fine. Skinner had called him Tuesday night to say he wasn't feeling so good and wouldn't be coming over, but that was it. How could he be gone?

"He's left a letter on my desk - a letter of resignation. Agent Doggett, please, I don't know what to do," she said, her voice close to tears. "You're his...friend," her slight hesitation before the word 'friend' told Dogget that she knew exactly what the nature of their 'friendship' was. "I thought you might know...after yesterday, I thought maybe..."

"What the hell happened yesterday?" He interrupted her. "No, wait. Hold it right there. I'm comin' up."

He slammed the phone down and ran up to the fifth floor, his heart pounding in his chest. Gone? Why? Where? Skinner had handed in his resignation and taken off? Without talking to him? Doggett felt a sharp pain constrict across his chest. This had come from nowhere! He and Skinner had been happy - or at least he thought they were. Skinner didn't talk a great deal about what he was feeling unless pushed, and Doggett hadn't done much pushing of late because everything felt so right between them and he didn't want to rock the boat. Had Skinner been unhappy with their relationship? What the hell could have driven him to just up and leave without telling anyone - without telling him? It hurt so much that he had to stop and lean against the wall for a moment to get breath back before he could continue.

When the pain between his ribs had subsided, at least a little, he continued his headlong charge up the stairs, and crashed into Kim's office, breathing heavily. She looked like a frightened rabbit, her pale face in stark contrast to her red hair.

"What happened yesterday?" Doggett demanded, shutting the door firmly behind him and turning the key in the lock to ensure there they wouldn't be interrupted.

"I'm not sure. I don't even know if it's related but I..." Kim shook her head and bit on her lip, her eyes glassy with tears.

"Where's the letter?" Doggett asked, striding over to her desk. She pushed a single sheet of white paper and an envelope towards him. The sheet of paper was addressed to Kim - the envelope was addressed to the Director. Doggett's hand was shaking as he read the words addressed to Kim.

Dear Kim,

Due to circumstances beyond my control, I have been forced into a position where I have to leave the Bureau forthwith. The nature of my predicament leaves me no time to work out the usual notice period. Please hand the enclosed envelope to the Director. It explains the circumstances of my resignation in a way that he will be able to accept.

All that remains is for me to wish you well and thank you for your many years of hard work. You have been an excellent PA and I have appreciated your help.

Yours truly,

Walter Skinner.

Doggett's fingers tightened around the sheet of paper, his knuckles white. What the hell was going on here?

"Kim - what happened yesterday?" He asked more gently, seeing that she was close to crying in earnest.

"He had an appointment...a man I didn't know. I don't think AD Skinner knew him either. It was a late appointment - the man just rang and said he needed to see the Assistant Director. Something to do with some missing medical records."

Doggett took a sharp intake of breath. "Go on," he said curtly.

"It was about 5 - I was just preparing to go home and AD Skinner told me to go ahead...but..." Kim paused. "Something didn't seem right. I didn't like the man I showed into AD Skinner's office, and the Assistant Director didn't seem well - he was sweating and he looked uncomfortable - there was a really bad atmosphere between him and this man."

"Did you know who this guy was?" Doggett demanded.

"No. I'd never seen him before." Kim shook her head.

"You're sure - he couldn't have been in disguise? You'd recognise Alex Krycek if you saw him?" Doggett pressed.

Kim's eyes widened in surprise. "Alex Krycek is dead, Agent Doggett," she pointed out gently, as if concerned about his mental state if he could have forgotten a fact like that.

"I know. All the same - was this man Alex Krycek in disguise?"

"No." Kim shook her head. "He was nothing like him. He was a big, fat man, with light coloured hair. He definitely wasn't Alex Krycek."

"Okay. Go on. What happened next?" Doggett asked impatiently.

"Well, it felt wrong...so I didn't go home. I hung around, tidying my desk."

Doggett glanced at her desk - it was always impeccably neat. He'd often thought that one of the reasons why Kim and Skinner worked so well together was because they were both pathologically tidy people with ordered, well organised minds, who didn't like working in clutter. He felt a wave of gratitude to her. Good old Kim, ever the consummate PA - she cared enough about Skinner to delay going home on a hunch, following her own intuition.

"I could hear the sound of raised voices in the AD's office but I didn't go in. Raised voices aren't all that unusual in there after all." She gave Doggett a little knowing smile that he barely managed to return. "After about ten minutes this guy left. I didn't hear anything in the AD's office...I hung around for awhile but he didn't come out and there was no sound in there...so I knocked on the door and went in."

"What did you find?" Doggett asked softly, his voice catching in his throat.

"AD Skinner was sitting in his chair with his back to me, staring out of the window. I asked him whether he was all right but he didn't answer. All I could see was the top of the back of his head. I was scared." Kim took a deep breath. "I wondered if something had happened to him. Like in the movies, you know...you go over to the chair and the person sitting in it is..." She trailed off and bit her lip again.

"He wasn't dead though," Doggett encouraged her gently.

"No, but he wasn't well - he looked even worse than he had before the meeting, and he had that problem back again, the one that happened a couple of times before that put him in the hospital. His face was lined with dark veins...he looked so ill, but worse than that, he looked so hopeless."

Her voice dropped and her face crumpled. Doggett felt his heart plummet to his feet. So, whoever had broken into Bethesda had found what they were looking for - or maybe it was nothing to do with that. Maybe the palm pilot's original owners had merely decided to pick up where they'd left off when Alex Krycek had been killed.

"He kept saying 'it doesn't work'. I don't know what that meant, but he was repeating it as he looked out of the window. He had a little black box in his hand." She looked at Doggett for confirmation that was important. Doggett ran a clammy hand through his hair making it stand up in points on his head.

"The palm pilot," he said in an undertone. "Oh shit. He takes it with him everywhere - never lets it out of his sight. This guy must have activated the nanocytes and when Skinner used his own palm pilot to reverse it, it didn't work. They've somehow managed to key them in to a different signature. The palm pilot he's got is useless." He said all this out loud, pacing around the office as he did so. Kim watched him, her eyes wide and frightened.

"I don't understand what you're saying, Agent Doggett," she whispered. "Is AD Skinner in trouble?"

"I don't know." Doggett stopped short. "Yes," he added wearily. "Yes, he is. He's in big trouble. We need to find him before he does something..." He paused, his heart thudding inside his chest. Surely Skinner wouldn't...? But he remembered the look on the big man's face when he'd finished their relationship last time over the nanocytes. Those 'bloodsuckers' as Skinner called them, were his lover's weak spot. He so hated being in thrall to them that Doggett could imagine he would do anything to escape...even take that one last, final step.

"What else did he say?" Doggett asked, opening the door to Skinner's office and striding into it, Kim at his heels.

"Nothing much. He must have seen that I was worried because he pulled himself together and told me he was fine. I asked him if he wanted me to call security and arrest the man who had been in his office - that maybe he hadn't left the building yet - but he said no. He sort of laughed, and threw a crumpled piece of paper he'd been holding in his fist into the trash. He said something like, 'he's just the errand boy. He's nothing.'"

"He threw something into the trash? Do you know what it was?" Doggett asked, striding over to the trash and emptying the contents. A whole pile of crumpled paper was strewn over the floor as a result.

"No I didn't. AD Skinner assured me that everything was fine - and the lines on his face had faded. He was looking better. He told me to go home, and I...well I didn't have any reason to argue with him. I didn't like leaving but he insisted so I went. I worried about it all night, and then when I came in this morning that letter was lying on my desk." She gestured back to the outer office.

Doggett nodded, his mind racing. Wherever Skinner was he probably had at least 12 hour's head-start on them - and he could be anywhere...if he was still alive. Doggett clamped down on that thought, and searched through the trash until he came across what he'd been looking for. It was just a short, three line note, but he could see why it had devastated his lover so much.

"You've come under new management. This is just a demonstration of what we can do. Consider yourself working for us now - we'll let you have your orders very soon."

Doggett crumpled the note in his fist and threw it angrily onto the desk. "Christ, why can't they leave us alone?" he yelled. "He doesn't deserve this...things were going so well for him. Christ!"

"Agent Doggett?" Kim's face was pinched and worried.

"It's okay. Look, Kim, I need you to do me a favour," Doggett said in a low, urgent tone.

"I'm going to Skinner's apartment to see if there's anything there. I want you to call everyone he's supposed to be seeing today and for the next few days and say that he's got sick all of a sudden. Don't reschedule anything. Give me...give me a couple of weeks to sort this out."

"Do you know where AD Skinner is?" Kim asked. "I already phoned his apartment and there was no reply."

"No, there wouldn't be," Doggett sighed. "Kim, one more thing - don't give that letter of resignation to the Director."

Kim bit on her lip again, her blue eyes worried. "Agent Doggett, AD Skinner instructed me to give the Director that letter. I..." She faltered, torn between obeying her boss's commands and wanting to help him if he was in trouble.

"Kim, trust me." Doggett put his hands on her slender shoulders and looked into her confused eyes. "If I can reach him then I can talk to him, maybe persuade him to come back...but I need time. If you give that letter to the Director that'll be the end of Walter's career. Do you want that? I know I don't - not without talking to him first to make sure he knows what he's doin'."

"I..." Kim gazed at him helplessly. "No. I don't want that. He's the best boss I've ever worked for - and he's such a nice man. He's always been very considerate towards me. If he's in any trouble then I want to help him," she said firmly. She walked back into the outer office, picked up the letter of resignation and handed it to Doggett who had followed her back out. "You take it, Agent Doggett. I'll only give it to the Director if you tell me to."

"Good. Can you hold the sharks at bay for two weeks?" He asked her, silently crossing his fingers behind his back that two weeks would be long enough. He might be a trained FBI agent but then so was Skinner - if his lover wanted to hide out of sight then he would know exactly how to go about it.

"Yes," she told him, her blue eyes clear and committed.

"Thank you. You're a godsend, Kim," he told her.

"I..." She gave a shy smile. "I just like him that's all. And you...you've been good for him, Agent Doggett. I haven't seen him like this since before his wife died. It's okay," she added quickly. "I've never told anyone...and he never said anything to me, but I knew. I could tell by the way he said your name and how grumpy he'd be if he had to cancel a lunch date with you."

"Sounds as if you should have been an agent and not a PA," Doggett commented, smiling at her. He didn't care who knew about their relationship - while undoubtedly it wouldn't be approved of in the higher echelons of power, neither of their careers was going anywhere and it wasn't grounds enough to fire either of them. John Doggett didn't hide or skulk around. If people found out then they did, and he dealt with it - and made them do the same.

"Just let me know what's going on," she told him as he strode toward the door. "And if you find him, tell him that I hope he'll come back. This place wouldn't be the same without him. Some of the PA's are scared to death of their bosses - some of the people who work here have secrets far worse than what AD Skinner is hiding," she whispered. "If he goes...I don't know who will be left who isn't..." she searched for the right words and then shrugged. "Wrong," she said at last, although he could tell that wasn't what she had intended to say.

"Don't worry, Kim. I'll find him," he told her with more confidence than he felt. I have to, he thought to himself as he unlocked the door and walked away.

Doggett let himself into Skinner's apartment half an hour later, with a sense of foreboding as to what he'd find. He reasoned with himself that there was no sense in Skinner writing a letter of resignation if he'd intended killing himself but even so, he didn't know what he'd find in the apartment. One thing he knew he wouldn't find was a live Walter Skinner. He'd either be dead or gone. Doggett turned on the lights and crept cautiously around the place, taking care not to disturb anything. There was nothing downstairs so he went upstairs, his gun drawn, his nerves jangling. There was an envelope taped to the mirror in the bathroom. It was addressed, simply, to "John".

Doggett tore it off the mirror and opened it. A sheet of white paper fell out, the same kind as the one addressed to Kim, covered in the same handwriting, unusually shaky, but still recognisably Walter Skinner's, written in black ink, probably using the pen he always used when he was writing anything by hand - the one Sharon had given him years ago.

"Dear John,

I knew you'd come looking for me, which is why I've gone. I can't let you talk me out of this and you would. I have to get away to where I can't hurt anyone and those bastards can't get at me. The thing has a range - we discovered that in those tests and I know that Krycek had to be nearby to activate it. If I clear out then they can't use me against anybody. I'm sorry. Forgive me - but don't come looking for me.

Love,

Walter."

"Like hell I won't," Doggett growled to the empty room. At least that answered his worst fear - Skinner hadn't committed suicide. He hadn't thought his lover would, it just wasn't something that Skinner would contemplate, but you never could tell what a man would do when he was this desperate.

Doggett searched through Skinner's belongings, as thoroughly and methodically as he could considering his agitated mental state. There wasn't much missing. He saw that a bag was gone, and suspected that some of his lover's clothes were in it, but beyond that there was nothing. A swift phone call to the office and a few checks later and he knew that his lover had withdrawn a substantial amount of cash from his bank account - but he hadn't taken credit cards or cheques with him. Doggett grunted, and threw the wallet of cards on the bed. Skinner knew that a credit card would be easily traced - by taking cash he was hoping to hold out on his own for long enough that people would stop looking for him...but then what? He found himself a job? He kept moving on, always looking over his shoulder? Doggett clenched his fists angrily. Christ no! That strong, dignified man deserved more than being reduced to some kind of tramp, roaming from place to place without a home, or someone to love him. He was damned if he would let that happen. The question was - where to start looking?

Doggett raced back to the office. He did the usual things, made all the normal enquiries, checked Skinner's boyhood home, and the homes of his friends, but they all drew a blank as he'd known they would. Skinner wouldn't go anywhere he could put people in danger. He would head precisely for a place where he could go unnoticed and unrecognised - but where?

Doggett spent a week, working day and night, sifting through every single clue he could. Monica helped, her dark eyes following his every move, worried about him as he drove himself into the ground in his search for his lover. Damn but if he could just find Skinner he was sure he could drum some sense into his lover's wrong-headed, noble skull. Doggett slept fitfully in the basement office only when exhaustion overtook him. His dreams were full of Skinner, lost and alone, calling for him - but he could never find him. No matter how hard he ran he could never catch up with his lover, and Skinner disappeared into the dark, his voice fading away as Doggett tried desperately to reach him.

As the end of the second week drew to a close Doggett was still was no further forward. He followed up every lead, drove out to any place where there had been a reported sighting, or where there was hope that Skinner might be, but drew a blank wherever he went. Kim called him the day before the two weeks were up.

"Agent Doggett, I can't hold people off for much longer. I need to have something concrete to tell them," she said in a sad, resigned voice. Doggett ran a weary hand over his eyes.

"I know. I just need more time," he told her desperately.

"We don't have more time, Agent Doggett."

"Give me 'til tomorrow. I'm goin' back to his place...I'll spend the night there. Maybe somethin' will occur to me. Somewhere we haven't tried," Doggett told her.

"Okay," she replied but he could tell by the tone of her voice that she'd already given up hope. Damn but a man couldn't just disappear like this, Doggett thought to himself, but Skinner had left his car behind, had taken nothing but a change of clothes and a bag. He was a man with survival skills, used to taking care of himself - if he wanted to keep out of sight then he could, able to evade everything except a huge, organised manhunt across every state in the US, and Doggett didn't have either the resources or the authority to order one of those.

Wearily, Doggett let himself into his lover's apartment. He strolled around it for a few minutes, trying to think himself into Skinner's mind, to figure out where his lover would have gone. Maybe nowhere, a little voice told him. All Skinner had to do was to take off aimlessly, travelling by train, stopping wherever he pleased - Doggett would never find him if that was what he'd done, and yet...and yet that wasn't very like Skinner. Doggett knew his lover would have left with a plan, a place he intended to go to, even if he hadn't thought much beyond that. He was too organised to consider doing anything else.

Doggett threw himself wearily onto the bed. It smelled of Skinner, and he could have wept from the memories that this bed held. He knew how obstinate his lover was. Unless he found him, Skinner would never come back - but supposing he never found him? Doggett felt a pain that went bone deep. He had never been in love like this before, and never would again. If he lost Skinner then he lost a huge chunk of whatever gave his life meaning. He was hopelessly, utterly in love, and without Skinner he was half a person. Walter Skinner was his warrior lover, his boyhood dream of a strong, capable man who walked side by side with him into danger, who was a shoulder to lean on when he needed it and who could lean on him in return; Walter Skinner was his clever, ambitious boss, a good man, solicitous of his agents, excellent at his job...Doggett remembered how this strong man would kneel before him, or spread his legs for him, offering himself up so sweetly, how he would allow himself to be tied, conversely finding his freedom in the very denial of liberty that Doggett was able to give him...and he wanted - no, needed - to feel that firm body under his fingers again, to look into those dark, knowing eyes again, to taste those sensuous lips again. Doggett was so tired that he soon fell asleep, haunted by those dark, lost eyes, begging him not to give up.

He woke with a start early the next morning. A glance at the nightstand showed it to be nearly 6 am - it was the longest amount of sleep he'd had since Skinner had gone missing. Doggett sat up, annoyed with himself for sleeping so long when he'd wanted to try and figure out where Skinner had gone. He fumbled for the light, turned it on, and his hand nudged the photo that Skinner kept on the nightstand. Doggett picked it up. He had seen the picture a dozen times but it had added piquancy now. The photo was of him and Skinner standing outside their cabin at Silvermist. It had been raining and his hair was wet and spiky - the way his lover liked it. A kindly passing hiker had taken the photograph for them, and Skinner had so loved the way they both looked in it that he'd had it framed. It was a good picture of a happy time. Doggett smiled and traced a hand over the glass absently. He had checked Silvermist - it had been one of the first places he had called, and he'd followed that up with a dozen or more calls to check that Skinner hadn't taken a cabin there since, paying by cash, but each time he had been assured that nobody answering that description was at Silvermist -in fact there were very few visitors as it was cold in the hills at this time of year, and nobody was paying by cash either. Doggett gazed at the picture for a long time; they were both wet and muddy - but so cheerful. That reminded him of the time they'd made love in that walkers' hut, both of them soaked to the skin but not caring. He could still remember the feel of Skinner's soggy jacket under his fingers, the scent of the rain on the other man's warm skin as he pounded into him, his thick cock filling him completely, the sound of the storm outside seeming to rage in time to their frenzied love making, the rain thrumming on the roof of the little hut. Doggett sat, frozen, and the picture slipped out from his fingers.

The hut. The walkers' hut. It was a long shot - there was no reason on earth to believe that Skinner was there, and yet...something about it felt right to Doggett. It was the perfect place to hide - there was hardly anyone staying at Silvermist at this time of year so Skinner was unlikely to be disturbed. It was shelter, even if it wasn't particularly comfortable, but Skinner wouldn't care about his own discomfort. Knowing him, he'd probably welcome it as some kind of penance for leaving in the first place.

Doggett pulled on his shoes and grabbed his jacket. He hadn't undressed last night and he looked a mess, but he didn't care about that. He considered calling Silvermist and asking them to check the hut, but decided against it. If anyone but him flushed out Skinner then the man would just keep on running, and his trail would go cold. Doggett jumped into his jeep and began driving. He knew that this could be as much of a dead end as all the other places he'd searched, but blind hope kept him going. He didn't have any other leads to follow so he might as well spend the morning driving out to the hills. What did it matter? Today was his last day - he might as well spend it driving out to Silvermist as sitting in the office fretting about Kim giving that letter to the Director.

Doggett called Kim a couple of hours later and told her to stall for a few hours longer. She agreed, genuinely pleased that he sounded so hopeful, and he knew he was setting them both up for a giant fall if he was wrong - but this felt right in his gut, and he'd been proved right with this kind of hunch before. Or was it a hunch, that little voice inside asked - maybe it was just the voice of weariness and desperation talking. Doggett pushed that thought away and kept on driving. He reached Silvermist in the early afternoon. It was cold in the hills, and he was hardly dressed for hiking, but he didn't care about that. He had a pair of boots in the back of the jeep, and a thick sweater, which he pulled on over his crumpled work shirt. He took the jeep as far into the hills as it would go, and then went the rest of the way on foot, sliding through the mud in places. Nobody would have walked this way by choice - if Skinner was in the hut then it was a good place to hide out, at least for the next couple of cold, winter months. It wasn't linked to him, so those who were manipulating him with the nanocytes wouldn't think to look there either.

Doggett ran the last part of the way, and crashed through the door of the hut. It took him a few seconds to realise that it was empty and he sank to his haunches in despair, all the breath knocked out of him by his disappointment. He'd been so sure that Skinner would be here. So certain. He had to be here because if he wasn't then Doggett truly didn't know where else to look and he refused to accept that he'd lost one more person he loved - he couldn't face that again. Wouldn't face it.

Doggett pulled himself together, and peered around the gloomy interior. There wasn't any electricity in the hut and it took a little while for his eyes to get used to the darkness - and then a tiny flutter of hope stirred inside him. There was a sleeping bag on the floor and the remains of a meal beside it. Someone had been staying here - someone who was expecting to come back!

Doggett turned on his heel and left the hut, trying to think where Skinner would go. Of course he wouldn't sit in the hut all day long when it was so dark in there. He'd go out and get some fresh air during the day. He remembered the hill they'd climbed, and how Skinner had spoken of seeing the sunrise...the short winter afternoon was already wearing on, and the sky was streaked with gold. A sunset would be as good a view as a sunrise for a man on his own, staying in such conditions, a man considering his life and what to do with it next. Doggett ran up the hill, breathing hard, full of hope. He couldn't see anyone as he neared the top, but there was a rocky promontory on the other side, invisible from anywhere but the summit. Doggett slid down the other side towards it - and his heart missed a beat as he caught sight of a red and black plaid shirt. There was a man sitting there, dressed in faded jeans, with big hiker's boots on his feet. For a moment Doggett thought he had got the wrong person - this man had a dark beard, streaked with gray, but then the figure turned and looked straight at him, and time stood still for a moment.

Skinner didn't say anything. He just grunted, his eyes unsurprised behind the wirerims. Then, still silent, he turned back to look at the sunset as it streaked across the sky.

Doggett didn't say a word either. He just went and sat down on the rocks beside Skinner, leaning in close for body warmth and comfort. They watched as the sun began to slip down in the sky, and then, finally, after several long minutes, Skinner spoke.

"I should have known you'd track me down, John. I always said you were the most persistent man I ever knew."

"And you're the most obstinate. I almost didn't find you," Doggett replied. He put an arm around Skinner's shoulders, pulled him over, and planted a heartfelt, fervent kiss on that beloved scalp. He held Skinner for a long time, his lips pressed against the familiar warm, bare skin that he had come so close to never touching again. Now that he was in contact with it once more, Doggett shuddered at the though of being deprived of any part of his lover again. He knew that he truly wouldn't be able to stand it. When he finally released Skinner, the big man's head came to rest easily on Doggett's shoulder, as if it belonged there, which they both knew it did.

"I'm not coming back," Skinner said softly, not looking at him, still gazing at the sunset.

"You don't have to if you don't want to, but if you don't come back then I'm not goin' back either," Doggett told him. "I'm not losin' you, Walter, not for anything. If you want out, then that's fine; god knows you've been through enough and maybe it isn't worth it any more, but that's a decision we'll make together, and we'll live with the consequences together. No more runnin' off. Christ, Walter, that hurt so much!" He moved Skinner from his shoulder, and took the other man's face in both his hands, looking at him intently, the unfamiliar beard scratching against the palms of his hands. "After all we've been through together why the hell couldn't you come to me and tell me what was goin' on?"

"I'm sorry. I thought it was for the best," Skinner murmured, his dark eyes dropping behind his eyelashes.

"Why? I knew about the nanocytes - I was with you every step of the way during those tests and after. You could have told me," Doggett scolded.

"No, I couldn't." Skinner pulled away. "You don't understand," he said, the fading sunlight casting an eerie glow over his bearded face. "Before...before I only just managed to tolerate having my strings pulled by those bastards because I thought I could control it to some degree. I thought I could still be of some use - but I was wrong. They asked me to do things that didn't seem harmful to Mulder and Scully, but it turned out they were harmful and I just didn't know why. That was bad enough - that nearly destroyed me...that case in Africa that I gave Mulder to investigate..." He trailed off, his voice choking. Doggett gazed at him intently. "I didn't know it would hurt him the way it did. Seeing him in that hospital, knowing that directly or indirectly, I was to blame for his suffering... I couldn't stand for that to happen again. Not because of me."

"This time it's different," Doggett said gently. "Mulder didn't know about the nanocytes, but I do. I know the pressure you're under. We could deal with it together."

"Yes, this time it is different, because this time..." Skinner gazed blindly into the darkening sky. "This time, it would mean betraying someone I love...potentially ordering him into dangerous situations where neither he nor I could anticipate the outcome because we didn't have all the facts...and I can't do that, John."

"Someone you love?" Doggett repeated the words stupidly, hearing only them, not caring about anything else, his heart doing an absurd somersault. Skinner looked at him, his eyes surprised.

"You, John." He gave a wry smile, and placed a regretful hand on Doggett's cheek, caressing gently.

"Me? You love me?" Doggett's face split into a grin that he was sure stretched from one ear to the other. Skinner looked confused.

"You knew that, John. You always seem to know what I'm feeling - better than I do half the time."

"Yeah, but I..." Doggett paused, considering this. "No, I did know, Walter," he said softly, realising that was the truth. "I guess I've known since New York - it just feels good to finally hear you say it after all this time."

"Since New York?" Skinner looked flabbergasted. "John, I've been in love with you for much longer than that. Are you seriously telling me you didn't know?"

"No - I thought you were still pinin' after Mulder," Doggett laughed. "I thought you were fond of me, sure, but I didn't think you felt the same way about me as I did about you."

"After all we shared, you and I? Christ, Sergeant, why the hell didn't you just ask?"

"I dunno, Corporal. I suppose for the same reason you didn't just tell," Doggett replied.

"I should have. I just thought you knew. It seemed so obvious to me - I had no idea you didn't know. I guess we're both..."

"Men?" Doggett suggested with a grin.

Skinner laughed. "Yeah. I suppose that's it. Seriously though, John." He leaned forward and caught Doggett's lips with his own. "I do love you," he whispered as he drew back. "I've been in love with you for months and I don't think I'm ever going to stop loving you."

"I'm not sure I deserve it, Walter," Doggett murmured, gazing at his own hands. "I've been holdin' out on you. I told you I loved you easily enough right from the beginning, but I never trusted you - not until New York. I made you trust me. I kept insisting that you trust me, but I always held out on trusting you in return until New York. I think I was expectin' you to turn out to be Tony...and you proved that you aren't...or at least you did until you started this runnin' off shit." He gave a teasing smile.

"Tony was a problem for me," Skinner said, his voice hoarse with honesty. "I thought that maybe I didn't measure up to him, that you still wanted and missed him - and then I met him, and I realised he really wasn't anything for me to worry about." He exchanged a wry smile with Doggett.

"Ain't that the truth! You know, I remember seeing you sitting there in that room, talking to Tony, handling him so easily like the brat he is, and I guess that was when it finally sank in that you loved me. Maybe not consciously, but somehow somethin' changed that day. I dunno why, but it was just seeing you sitting there, dealing with him, taking his shit without missing a beat. You were so self assured, as if there was nothing on this earth that could shake what we had together, and certainly nothing as insignificant as Tony Larsen. Something just clicked into place my head at that moment and I knew then."

"Oh, so the whole buying the plane ticket thing didn't give it away before then?" Skinner commented. Doggett had the grace to flush.

"What can I say? I can be an obtuse bastard when I try." He grinned.

Skinner gave a wry shrug, and then looked away. "I'm sorry, but it doesn't change anything. I'm not coming back," he said firmly.

"We can talk about it. I have an idea how we can turn this to our advantage," Doggett told him.

"How?" Skinner turned back sharply.

"Every time they threaten you with the nanocytes, it means there's something that's important to them. By knowing what's important to them, we're half-way to destroying them. All you have to do is tell me whenever they use them as leverage. That way we can walk into whatever it is with our eyes wide open."

"I don't know, John. That's still pretty risky." Skinner shook his head.

"So is crossin' the road. So is being an FBI agent period." Doggett shrugged. "You can't protect me from everythin', Walter, any more than I can protect you. That's just life. I think it's worth a try - there's nothing they can do to hurt us as long as you and I keep talking and know what's going on. If you find it too painful, then we'll cut and run then - but I think it's worth going back and giving this a try first. I want to nail those bastards and I know that you do too. I think we can too. I think we can find out who they are and crush them once and for all."

"I want that." Skinner gave a wry grimace. "God how I want to nail those bastards."

"And I want you to have that satisfaction," Doggett told him quietly. "But let's not kid ourselves that ridin' this out will be easy, Walter. I know how much it hurts you when the nanocytes are active in your bloodstream. I know it isn't easy handling that kind of pain and if you want to leave it all behind then I sure as hell won't blame you. God knows you've given up enough for the X Files. If it's time for you to call it quits then I won't question your decision; I'll come with you, like I said. I figure that between us we can do just about anything together. It'll be an exciting new challenge. We could travel, and think about a new kind of career. Just don't make this decision based on what's best for me, or Scully and Mulder, or the X Files. Make it for yourself. It's your call, Walter. You know I'll back you up, whatever you decide."

There was a long silence. Skinner gazed thoughtfully into the twilight sky, his brow furrowed. He didn't say anything for a long time, and Doggett didn't interrupt his decision-making process. Finally, after half an hour of silence, Skinner let out a long, explosive sigh.

"I knew you'd talk me out of it," he growled. "That's why I came out here. But I can't go back, John - I wrote a letter of resignation."

"I know. I've got it here." Doggett pulled it out of his pocket and waved it in the air. "Kim's worth her weight in gold you know, Walter. First thing she did on finding this was to call me."

"You? How did she...?" Skinner shook his head and laughed, a deep, rumbling roar of a laugh. "Kim always did know everything that was going on without being told."

"She's a treasure. When we get home we'll have to take her out to dinner in the most expensive restaurant in town. You are coming home, aren't you, Walter?"

Doggett got up, and held out a hand to help his lover to his feet. Skinner gazed at the hand for a moment, and then accepted it with a resigned sigh.

"Now?" He asked, as Doggett hauled him to his feet.

Doggett shook his head. "No. I figure we could do with a few days at Silvermist to unwind first. They've got cabins to spare. You're in no fit state to go straight back into the fray, and frankly, neither am I."

"I've been gone two weeks, John. I can't swing any more time off. I have to go back and sort out the mess I left behind at some point," Skinner said ruefully.

"A few days more won't make any difference," Doggett told him as they walked back down the hill together. "I'll call Kim and let her know I've found you. She'll be able to hold the vultures off for a bit longer. I'll tell her..." Doggett glanced at Skinner, and then grinned at his own private joke. "I'll tell her to let everyone know you're takin' some personal time."

Skinner grinned back. They walked in silence to the jeep, and got in. Doggett turned on the engine and began driving over the rocky terrain back to Silvermist.

"So..." Skinner gave a little grimace and glanced over at his lover. "I figure that you're pretty angry with me for running out on you and leaving that note. Are you going to take your belt to my ass for this, Sergeant?"

Doggett shook his head, a laugh bubbling up from deep within. He glanced at Skinner as he drove, a feeling of total relief and joy flooding through him. He loved, and was loved in return by this handsome man, this noble, strong, warrior-lover who fulfilled all his youthful hopes and dreams. He knew that with this man by his side he was complete.

"No, Corporal," he replied with an evilly sexual grin. "Oh no. I can think of somethin' a whole lot better to do with that magnificent ass of yours..."

The End

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Archived: January 31, 2002 


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